


I am a cage, in search of a bird

by iiscos



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (on the romance side), (so they're NOT aged up!!), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And then to friends, Angst, Book 3: Fire, Consensual underage sexual activities, Culminating to, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Just bros getting off together, M/M, Slow Burn, Sokka is a dumbass but also a genius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:06:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24988786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iiscos/pseuds/iiscos
Summary: Somehow, being able to hold his own against Zuko was more importantnowthan when Zuko was actively trying to murder them.(Slight canon divergence from Book 3, with a lot of angst and jerking off)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), minor Sokka/Suki - Relationship
Comments: 696
Kudos: 1858
Collections: you rise with the moon i rise with the sun





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Important Author Note** : This story takes place during Book 3 so the characters are the canon ages of 15-16. There are some sexual content (just frottage and hand jobs) depicted in chapters 3-5. Not overtly explicit but holy hell are they awkward. There will be no additional sexual content beyond chapter 5, but past activities are referenced in the furthering of plot. 
> 
> ~~
> 
> I am on time for a fandom resurgence, I think...
> 
> I haven't watched ATLA in what, 10 years? I'm slowly rewatching on Netflix, but I'm only half way into season one and this fic definitely takes place in season three. I read a couple of fics set during this time, and that's about it! Please read at your own discretion, with that being said.
> 
> I am an angst writer, and maybe I haven't looked hard enough, but there doesn't seem to be too many angsty Zukka fics lmao so I'm writing my own I guess?? Sokka is always so sweet and protective and...I guess I want to highlight some of his flaws..
> 
> Well, only time will tell if I jumped the gun with this one (without spending adequate time doing research, I mean) Off to finish watching season one now!
> 
> Title comes from a quote by Franz Kafka

Aang warmed up to the idea first. It really didn’t take much considering the greater scheme of things and all the shit they had gone through _because_ of Zuko. All Zuko needed was a stilted, awkward apology, an unconditional surrender in response to their initial rejection, and of course, the offer to teach Aang how to firebend. Aang was pretty adamant on giving the guy a second chance, even while the rest of his friends remained wary of the newest addition to their team. Katara and Toph were, at least. Sokka was downright resentful—and rightfully so—and he gave little effort to hide that fact.

Toph accepted Zuko next in her own callous, plain-spoken way. She offered to spar with him when neither were needed for Aang’s lessons. She made casual conversation in a way that suggested that his answer didn’t really matter—or more accurately—that she didn’t really care because they held no consequence in her judgement. That put Zuko more at ease than any of the friendly gestures or supportive words that Aang threw his way in the past week or so. And Sokka recognized too well the way Zuko released some of the tension in his body when he was with Toph, the way his carefully calculated words strung together a touch more naturally.

Toph could tell when people were being insincere, Sokka reasoned to himself. And she wasn’t around to suffer and _survive_ the worst of Zuko like the rest of them. Her gradual approval of the former prince, while just as irksome, felt less like a personal betrayal than the rest. 

As time went on, Katara’s resolve crumbled as well, and Sokka, while disappointed, was not surprised. Despite her strength and fierceness, Katara was also forgiving by nature—too kind and trusting for her own good, just like Aang. All Zuko really had to do was remain quiet, semi-decent, and out of her way when old wounds threatened to reopen for Katara to slowly convince herself that Zuko was now more of an ally and less of a threat. _Way too easy._

And that appeared to be Zuko’s approach in dealing with Sokka as well—an infuriating amalgamation of politeness and aversion—so that any confrontation would be Sokka’s to initiate, and _he_ would end up looking like the stubborn, unreasonable one.

Thus, in response to Zuko’s subdued airs, Sokka matched him with eagle-eyed surveillance and brooding— _a lot_ of brooding. But much to his consternation, Zuko hadn’t really stepped a foot wrong since joining their group. He was diligent in his chores and never once complained about the various precautionary, and frankly banal, tasks Katara had asked him to do, tasks that Sokka often scoffed at and refused. Soon enough, Katara stopped asking Sokka for help in those matters altogether. Zuko was also effective and shockingly patient in his firebending lessons with Aang. He responded politely to suggestions from his fellow teachers and made genuine efforts in adjusting his words and behavior in ways that would most benefit the airbender. Compliments and encouragements came to him as unnaturally and _painfully_ as apologies, but _at least he was trying_ was everyone’s defense for Zuko lately.

On the battle field, he was a skilled swordsman, a powerful bender, and probably their most potent attacking threat next to Aang (although Sokka would rather fling himself off the nearest cliff than admit that aloud). And unlike Aang, Zuko was not afraid to get his hands dirty when the situation demanded a degree of ruthlessness. Having Zuko on their team certainly took the edge off some of their latest skirmishes.

Sokka intensified his own training regime as well, noting the weaknesses in his form and limitations in his reflexes and speed, and poured all of his frustration in bettering his technique. He lifted more too—he could always use more muscle mass—a decision that had absolutely nothing to do with Zuko’s latest demonstration of combining firebending and hand-to-hand combat.

Somehow, being able to hold his own against Zuko was more important _now_ than when Zuko was actively trying to murder them.

Katara humored Sokka with a few training sessions, whipping water at him while he danced and dodged. Perhaps he was too keen in seeking her help when he had never been so insistent in the past, but Katara caught on quickly to the motivation behind his sudden desperation for a sparring partner, and after that, of course, she refused to help.

“This is so typical!” She threw her hands up in frustration, storming her way back to their camp. “I don’t have time to deal with your bruised, oversized ego!”

“This is not about that!” Sokka protested, chasing after her. “I want to be a better fighter—and why should my reasoning even matter? Wouldn’t it benefit _everyone_ if I were stronger?”

“I’m not going to encourage this kind of behavior.” Her cold response effectively ended their conversation. “Find someone else if you can’t help yourself.”

Toph agreed to spar with him next, and even if she had some awareness of his one-sided grudge rivalry with Zuko, she didn’t say a word about it. Sokka suspected that she was simply bored and found great amusement in creating obstacle courses for him out of shifting rocks. Training with Toph always left him exhausted and bruised, but restlessness still plagued him as no amount of bone weariness can satisfy his need for a weapon to clash against his own, to feel the strength of another reverberating along the metal of his blade.

Sokka wished he had someone else to spar with, someone who also relied on speed, strength, and swordsmanship that could highlight his deficiencies in ways benders could not. Suki would be perfect if she were here, and he openly lamented her absence to anyone who would listen. 

Toph must have relayed his sentiment to Zuko, because Zuko invaded his practice space a few days later, dressed in loose training clothes with twin swords strapped to his back. He stood by the doorway until Sokka noticed him, looking awkward and uneasy. Obviously, someone else had put Zuko up for the task, and he agreed because he was just _so easygoing and compliant_ nowadays.

“I heard you were looking for a sparring partner,” he said blandly with averted eyes, body tense as if anticipating scorn and preparing to leave as soon as Sokka gave his cue. And somehow, that infuriated Sokka even more than if Zuko had simply barged in here and demanded this room as his princely right. 

“Yeah,” Sokka said after a moment’s consideration, “You offering or what?”

Zuko locked eyes with him then, surprise flashing in golden irises before fading beneath a practiced veil of calm. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He took a few measured steps forward, drawing his weapons only after Sokka raised his own. He didn’t really look like he wanted to fight Sokka, but Sokka wanted to fight _him_ , and he wanted Zuko _to want to fight him_. The fact he almost always had his ass handed to him by the fire prince in the past was a mere afterthought. 

“Just swords,” Zuko said, as if Sokka had a choice in this matter, “Not sure how much flames this room can handle.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sokka scoffed dismissively, lunging forward for a first strike. 

They swung and parried for what felt like an hour with only clashes of metal and labored breaths filling the tense air around them. A particularly satisfying strike forced Zuko back half a step, the vibrating metal sending a jolt of something fierce up Sokka’s arm and down his spine. Zuko remained calm under pressure and countered with his own calculated move—a respectful display of strength and skill because, after all, this _was_ a friendly spar. 

Zuko came here to train with Sokka, because he was made aware—by Toph most likely—of Sokka’s desire for a suitable sparring partner. Winning was not his priority, and Sokka could tell because he knew what Zuko was like when winning was. He didn’t want to fight Sokka anymore, or at least, not in the way Sokka wanted to fight him. But even in the past, Zuko had always been obsessed with capturing the Avatar and restoring his honor. Perhaps, he never really wanted to fight Sokka in the first place.

Something sour and ugly twisted in his stomach as he reached this concluding thought, and his movements must have reflected his mood because the sudden rush of rage-fueled adrenaline caught Zuko off guard. Sokka swung downward rather recklessly, taking advantage of Zuko’s momentary hesitation to knock one sword out of his grip. He ducked beneath a vertical swing before kicking Zuko’s legs out from underneath him, and the breathless groan that escaped the fire prince as his back hit the floor was almost as satisfying as the wide-eyed look of shock only a fraction of a second prior. 

Sokka flashed a smug grin as he towered over his opponent, lowering the tip of his blade to his chin.

A familiar, princely rage darkened Zuko’s features, and Sokka felt his breath hitch in anticipation as flickers of flames danced beneath the firebender’s fingertips. He barely recognized the violent beating of his own heart as he waited, wanting and _hoping_ for a reason to give in to that old resentment simmering beneath the surface, something he had to forcibly shove away ever since Zuko showed up out of nowhere and declared himself one of the good guys. 

But much to his disappointment, Zuko’s anger dissipated as quickly as it threatened to flare. The firebender looked up at Sokka again, stoic mask restored. “You win,” he said, although it sounded more like “checkmate” than an admission of defeat.

“Not if you firebend,” Sokka challenged.

A small, nearly imperceptible smile tugged at the fire prince’s lips. “That’s not the arrangement we agreed upon.”

No words could describe the sudden, unanswerable rage rushing through Sokka at the moment. He felt cheated somehow, even though he had won their spar. Maybe because Zuko had not fought him the way he had grown accustomed to—all rage and fire and unfounded cruelty. Zuko would have had the upper hand if he used his firebending, but he had chosen to abide by their agreement and _smiled_ in response to Sokka’s challenge. Sokka would have lost in a _real_ battle. Is that what he wanted? A real battle with Zuko? For Zuko to want to kill him again? Did he want to kill Zuko?

No, no, of course not. He wouldn’t want to kill anyone if he had the choice. What he _wanted_ was to harbor his rage and resentment for the destruction of his tribe, for the loss of his mother, and for all the grief and suffering that the Fire Nation had caused in their century of war. And Zuko embodied the destruction and cruelty of the Fire Nation for nearly his entire life, with the exception of perhaps, the past few weeks. Were they all supposed to just forgive and forget?

Maybe Zuko was sincere about making amends, but that was beside the point. He might have convinced everyone else with his recent good behavior, but Sokka was not willing to turn away from the past just yet. Let his rage be a reminder of all the pain that Zuko had caused since his introduction into their lives—both personally and on behalf of the Fire Nation. Sokka just wished that Zuko would show some semblance of the angry, violent _asshole_ they all knew him to be. It would be so much _easier_ for Sokka that way.

But some timely epiphany unknown to the rest of them had drained away his anger like an open wound, leaving behind only quiet devotion and solemn resignation over whatever hatred and abuse hurled his way for the mistakes of his past. Meanwhile, Sokka’s rage only seemed to intensify in the absence of Zuko’s.

Redness blossomed against smooth, fair skin, mixing with the light sheen of sweat before sliding down the pale neck to collect at the dip of a collarbone. Only then did Sokka realize he had pressed his blade into the soft, vulnerable skin of the firebender’s neck, hard enough to draw blood. 

He faltered upon realizing what he had done, withdrawing his weapon as steadily as he could despite the tremors threatening to overtake him. He made the mistake of looking down at Zuko again, eyes locking with unreadable golden-brown. Sokka searched helplessly for something in the face before him and found nothing that he hadn’t already known—defiant golden eyes beneath dark hair that fell in fringes, angry scar tissue stretched across pale, perfect skin like a forbidding reminder that nothing perfect ought to exist.

“You can fight better than that,” Sokka scowled as he stepped away, sheathing his sword. Those were not the words he had wanted to say, but they were what came to him first. “Next time, don’t underestimate me.” 

He rushed out of the chamber with Zuko still rooted to the spot where he had fallen, not daring to stay long enough for a response. What _did_ he want to say in the moment? What _could_ he have said? He spent the rest of the day mulling over those thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY, I finally understand why someone pointed out that Sokka seems more like canon Katara (I read the wiki page. I highly doubt I will get to rewatching all the seasons before the majority of the fic is written). I thought of the plot of this fic before reminding myself what had actually happened (and I'm going to stick to it) so I guess I should tag this as canon-divergent lmao. The main plot will still hold though!
> 
> Thanks for everyone who read and commented on the first chapter. The reviews left me so giddy that I pumped out the next chapter at lightning speed. (Content rating might also go up in the next -- haven't decided yet)

“Oh, Zuko, what happened to your neck?”

Everyone directed their attention to the firebender in question, whose startled look of bewilderment would have been funny to Sokka if it weren’t for the glaring red mark against the pale skin of his throat. Sokka felt dread sinking like a stone in the pit of his stomach. The wound was barely a scratch—damn Zuko, for being so pale. Sokka didn’t know why Katara felt the need to point out Zuko’s mark like that in front of everyone during dinner time. They all had suffered worse injuries at some point while sparring, so she really shouldn't have made such a fuss.

Except Sokka never actually apologized to Zuko. And could he really consider this a sparring mishap if his sword slipped _after_ he had already disarmed the firebender?

“An accident,” the firebender said quickly, covering his neck with his palm. “Sparring accident.”

“He’s lying,” Toph declared through a mouthful of rice. She had been the only one who had continued to eat since the onset of this investigation. “Or at least, there’s more to it. What is it? A hickey or something?”

She blinked up at Katara, searching for confirmation, but Sokka’s outburst provided the answer to her inquiry instead.

“Ugh, no!” he groaned in revulsion, “We were sparring, okay? And I cut it a little too close.”

“You managed to cut Zuko on the neck?” Aang spoke up, arching a skeptical brow.

“What, you don’t think I _can_?” Sokka exclaimed in indignation, only to snap his jaw shut when he was met with Katara’s steely leer of disapproval. 

“Come on, it’s barely a scratch,” he protested when everyone continued to stare at him in silence, “I didn’t mean to do it. I’m sorry, okay?”

Guilt had shadowed him throughout the day despite his adamant efforts to ignore it completely. Apologizing to Zuko did cross his mind at some point, but his pride in the end had prevented him from doing so. And the apology forced out of him now felt defensive and insincere, directed more towards the room than towards Zuko himself. Sokka never thought apologizing could actually make him feel _worse_.

“It’s fine,” Zuko said quietly from across the table, tense and uncomfortable and clearly ready for everyone to redirect their scrutiny elsewhere. 

Katara, of course, refused to let anything slide. “I can take a look at your neck after dinner,” she offered.

Zuko’s eyes shot up to Katara’s, giving Sokka another view of that startled yet hesitant wide-eyed look that he was growing increasingly tired of seeing. “No, really, it’s fine.”

“I would do that for anyone else here.” Katara’s response was unyielding, but not unkind. “I’d like to do the same for you.”

Sokka groaned inwardly as he sank back into his seat. How was anyone supposed to say no when she goes on to say something so publicly embarrassing like that? He watched Zuko tense under the renewed attention, face flushing ever so subtly. 

“Thank you,” was his eventual reply, and Sokka prayed to the Spirits that this would be the end of that.

~~

“Can I have a word with you?”

Katara found Sokka later that evening, sharpening his boomerang in the courtyard of their temporary lodging in the small Earth Kingdom town. Sokka fought the urge to roll his eyes at her as he sheathed his weapon, rising from where he had been perched on the steps.

“Sure,” he said peevishly, “Now that you’re done playing mother hen to prince jerkface over there.”

He didn’t have to look at her to know that he had ruffled her feathers. Confirmation came quickly in the form of an affronted outburst. “What is your problem, Sokka?”

“ _My_ _problem_?” he cried out, matching her indignation, “I’m wondering the same thing about you and everyone else around here! Am I the only one with any common sense or _long-term memory_?”

Katara exhaled a long, shuddering, exasperated sigh before pinching close her eyes. “We went over this already. Zuko’s part of our team now. He’s changed.”

“Listen to what you’re saying,” Sokka pleaded, “Do you actually believe that enough to trust him with our lives?”

Katara faltered then, lips pressed to a thin, grim line. No matter what airs she might put on about being empathetic or forgiving, Sokka knew that deep down, she harbored the same lingering doubts as he did. 

“I trust Aang,” she eventually said, “And if Aang is willing to give him a second chance, then so am I.”

“Fine,” Sokka scoffed, making a show of stretching out his limbs as he prepared to end the conversation and return inside, “You just go about your business, _trusting Aang_ on this one. I’m going to actually use my common sense.”

Katara glared at him through narrowed, suspicious eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m going to keep an eye on him, okay? And if he makes one misstep, then he’s out.”

“I don’t think I can trust you with that.”

The quiet, begrudging whisper halted Sokka in his tracks. He slowly turned to face his sister again, rage swelling in his chest. “What did you say?”

“You cut him on the throat, Sokka,” Katara accused, and Sokka wanted to pull his hair out. They were talking in circles.

“This again? It was barely a scratch, and I apologized already. What more do you want?”

“On the _throat,_ ” Katara repeated with emphasis, bearing down on him despite her smaller frame, “Why were you even going for his neck during a friendly spar? You could have seriously injured him.”

Something flickered in her eyes then—a delicate pinprick of accusation and hurt—that forced Sokka to retreat into himself for a moment and re-evaluate what he should say next. He wasn’t _actually_ going for Zuko’s throat. He had Zuko pinned already; he had won. What had happened afterwards—he couldn’t really explain, not even to himself.

“Sokka, answer me,” Katara demanded, growing tired and worried from waiting. 

And Sokka, despising himself, disguised his guilt with petulance and sarcasm. “You think I wanted to kill him? I don’t! I wouldn’t mind punching him in the face, though. Wouldn’t you?”

“Stop it,” Katara frowned, “It’s not funny. I’m worried about you”

“Thank you, Katara. I’m also worried about _you_.”

“I’m serious. You need to get over—over _this—_ ” For lack of a suitable word, she made a vague, frustrated gesture with her hands “—Whatever _this_ is with Zuko”

“Oh, this?” He snapped back at her, mirroring her gesture mockingly. “You mean losing mom? Or not knowing if dad’s alive or dead? Or the sheer stress of being hunted down wherever we go by the Fire Nation, whom Zuko, by the way, was the _prince_ of just a month ago. Are you telling me you got over all of that already?”

“O-Of course not,” Katara stammered, her fierce blue eyes glazing with unshed, frustrated tears. Past his violent surge of anger, Sokka thought miserably, was hurt, fear, and loss. Before she could say anything else, he knew he had crossed the line.

“I’ll miss dad for as long as he’s away.” With no small amount of effort, Katara managed to keep her voice steady. “And I’ll miss mom forever. But Zuko didn’t kill mom, and he won’t kill dad. He might have tried to hurt us in the past, but—he was never going to get to us as long as we had each other. And now, he’s sorry, and he wants to help where he can, and that begins with helping Aang master firebending.”

Sokka counted the beats of silence as Katara swallowed back her tears, before finally hanging his head in shame and pulling his sister into a hug. “Shit, I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

Katara exhale deeply against his collarbone, relaxing into his embrace. “I know, Sokka. It’s okay.”

~~

Sokka probably should follow Katara’s advice and take it down a notch with the whole— _Zuko obsession—_ which was what Katara had coined this as, but Sokka still insisted that it be called common sense. Or at least, common sense had underlied whatever _it_ had morphed into. Being tense and angry all the time was grating away at his psyche—that much he agreed with his sister—so when he begrudgingly accepted that he was in need of respite, only to realize that he couldn’t actually bring himself to _stop_ , his predicament suddenly felt like a cosmic joke. 

Apparently, despite finding little joy in the tedious process, dissecting Zuko’s every move had become a compulsive need. 

Zuko, meanwhile, required little effort to ignore Sokka completely, which Sokka honestly did not find very fair.

There were no further offers to be his sparring partner, that much was unsurprising. Whoever had made the suggestion to Zuko in the first place must have realized the less than desirable consequences, and Zuko certainly wasn’t going to volunteer _himself_ when he never wanted to spar with Sokka in the first place.

Sokka sighed against the railings of Appa’s saddle as he waited for the rest of the group to return from the market. They were taking too long shopping for supplies, as per usual, but Sokka lacked the motivation to hunt them down this time. He didn’t want to see Zuko helping Katara with her bags, or Zuko talking Aang out of buying something truly idiotic, or Zuko simply standing around, looking mildly annoyed or bored without actually saying a word. Everything about Zuko scraped at his nerves, even his absence because Sokka thought about him constantly.

“Did you know Zuko is technically Aang’s great grandson?” Toph, beside Sokka, said suddenly and without preamble. She had opted to stay and help load the saddle, perhaps because she knew that the rest of the group would be late and wanted some time to doze off beneath the sun.

“What?” Sokka squinted at her.

“Apparently, Roku is Zuko’s great grandfather on his mother’s side,” Toph explained, as casually as if they were discussing the weather, “Zuko found out right before deciding to leave the Fire Nation. That’s what made him believe it was his destiny to help the Avatar, or something like that.”

“H-He told you this?” Sokka stammered, dumbstruck.

“Well, he told Aang,” said Toph, “And Aang told me. Then I asked him, and he told me.”

“Why are you telling _me_ this?” Sokka demanded, suddenly annoyed. How was he supposed to stop thinking about Zuko if Zuko was all anyone ever wanted to talk to him about? Did Katara put her up for this as another way to convince Sokka that Zuko couldn’t be _all bad_ if he was a descendent of the previous Avatar? Never mind if the other half of Zuko’s parentage was Fire Lord Ozai? 

“I dunno,” Toph yawned into her hand, nonplussed by Sokka's mounting irritation. “Just found it funny to picture Aang as Zuko’s great grandfather.”

Typical for Toph to focus on that aspect of the story. Sokka frowned, unsure of what to do with this new piece of information. It weighed heavily and conflictingly in his mind.

“I didn’t know you talked to him about stuff like this,” he grumbled out.

“I talk to him about a lot of things,” Toph shrugged, “I like talking to him.”

“What? _Why?_ ”

“He has interesting things to say. And I like the sound of his voice. It’s soft, and he doesn’t squawk as much as the rest of you guys.”

Sokka made a shocked and offended noise that regrettably sounded like a squawk. 

Toph laughed and continued before Sokka could denounce her reasoning. “I also wanted to figure him out, you know? It didn’t really matter what we talked about. I just wanted to see if he was being honest.”

Sokka looked towards Toph then, suddenly appreciative of her for taking the precautions that he too had felt necessary. Maybe all of his friends had taken some sort of precaution since Zuko joined their group. The only difference was that they lacked Sokka’s foresight and tenacity.

“Well, what did you find out?”

“For the most part, he was honest,” Toph answered noncommittally, “Careful, but honest. It was harder to tell at first because he was so uptight, but he’s gotten a lot better around me and Aang. He’s still a little tense around Katara. He’s always tense around you.”

“Really,” Sokka mused, feeling his pride swell just a little to know that despite Zuko’s stoicism, Sokka was still able to elicit some form of reaction from him.

“Not nearly as bad as _you_ when you’re around him, though.” Toph blew out some air contemptuously, rudely halting Sokka in his self-congratulations. He almost succeeded in withholding the squawk this time. 

They fell silent afterwards, forcing Sokka to acknowledge the strange, unwelcoming tug at his insides. Why should he care if Zuko went around spilling his secrets to anyone nosy enough to ask? Sokka sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. Obviously, these displays of vulnerability could mean nothing in the end. Zuko had spilled his guts to Katara back in Ba Sing Se—about his scar and his cruel, ruthless father—only for him to betray them all a moment after. And then, he hired an assassin to kill them like the slimy coward he was.

Sokka didn’t care about what Zuko had to say. Especially not anything rehashed from what he had already told his friends.

“I think the fact that he is so willing to talk is suspicious on its own,” Sokka said sourly.

“He doesn’t talk much,” Toph conceded, “But if you talk to him, he talks back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Love to hear from you
> 
> I am also iiscos @ tumblr if you want to chat about headcannons ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Important Author Note** : This story takes place during Book 3 so the characters are the canon ages of 15-16. There are some sexual content (just frottage and hand jobs) depicted in chapters 3-5. Not overtly explicit but holy hell are they awkward. There will be no additional sexual content beyond chapter 5, but past activities are referenced in the furthering of plot. 
> 
> ~~
> 
> Ugh, the initial plan was to pace myself but I'm kind of writing compulsively at the moment, so I'll post as frequently as I can. I just finished watching that one Zuko episode where he's traveling alone after parting with uncle and I'm just...overwhelmed with Zuko feels...and I want to write him forever
> 
> Content rating is going up because, well you'll see
> 
> Thanks so much for the wonderful support so far! You guys are literally my fuel

Sokka woke up at the break of dawn from a dream about Suki that he could barely remember, but it still left his heart aching and wanting all the same. Misery threatened to choke him as he recalled her capture and his failure to protect her. He wondered where she might be held and if she were safe or—he swallowed thickly—alive.

A shuffle from outside his tent pulled him from his guilt-ridden bereavement. He saw a shadow gliding across the fabric above him, the silhouette undoubtedly belonging to Zuko. Firebenders rose with the sun, after all. 

Sokka silently counted to ten before crawling to the opening of his tent, peering out just in time to catch Zuko duck into the nearby woods. The amount of time he spent mulling over whether to follow the firebender or not was absurdly short.

Zuko was up to something, that much he was certain. If he only had to take a piss, he would have done so already, instead of trekking farther and farther away from their campsite, eyes darting around as if paranoid that he was being followed.

Which he was, Sokka conceded, as he ducked behind an ancient oak, keeping as much distance as possible without losing sight of his target. Zuko seemed to wander without aim, eventually stopping by some random trees and looking flustered and thoroughly annoyed with himself. Was he trying to relay a message to the Fire Nation about something he’d learned since joining the Avatar? And he somehow had forgotten where the rendezvous point was, the idiot. 

Sokka watched and waited as Zuko paced about, his hand twitching by his hip before falling to his side. This went on for another minute or so, during which Sokka concluded that whatever Zuko was hiding must be on his body for him to look so uncomfortable in his own skin.

Sokka wondered what the best strategy would be for confronting Zuko. He didn’t appear armed, which was a careless oversight on his part—uncharacteristically so—if he were actually meeting with a Fire Nation messenger. Zuko could firebend so he was by far from being helpless, but firebending in such a dense part of the forest could cause unforeseen consequences and attract unwanted attention. Zuko wouldn’t firebend unless he absolutely had to.

A surprise attack would be Sokka’s best bet, and a guerrilla-style tussle on the ground would level the playing field somewhat against Zuko’s undoubtedly superior hand-to-hand combat skills. And Sokka didn’t have to defeat Zuko exactly. He just needed to figure out what he was hiding.

Sokka braced himself, took a deep inhale, and lunged from his hiding spot.

“Wha—Ah!” Zuko cried out just as Sokka made solid contact with his midriff, hauling them both to the ground. They grappled for a while, and Sokka made sure to pin down Zuko’s hands so that the side that could potentially burn his face off would be pointed away.

It only took a second for Zuko to realize who exactly had jumped him, and Spirits, Sokka had not seen that look of immeasurable, utter fury on the fire prince’s face in a long time. 

“What do you think you’re _doing_?” Zuko growled up at him, absolutely livid. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” Sokka grunted, narrowly avoiding a knee to the gut before he pressed his own knee against Zuko’s thigh, straddling him. They were around the same height and build, but Sokka had the benefit of gravity on his side. “Why are you sneaking around all the way out here?”

“Get off me,” Zuko demanded, his voice falling an octave. And _shit_ , Sokka could feel his blood broiling from something he couldn’t completely attribute to the adrenaline of combat.

“Tell me what you’re hiding,” he insisted, only to be met with a revitalized effort to struggle out of his grasp. Sokka felt his muscles tense and shake under the duress. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep Zuko pinned.

“I’m not hiding anything— _fuck_!” Zuko shouted, the incarnation of rage, and Sokka had no words to describe the sudden, unexpected joy exploding in his chest. Zuko looked like he could murder him—that was how angry he was—and Sokka had pulled this devastating and wonderful reaction from the wells of complacency in which Zuko had drowned nearly _everything_ since siding with the Avatar. Spirits, Sokka could bask in this forever.

Except, he really ought to focus on _why_ he had ambushed Zuko in the first place. 

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, I’ll just have to find out for myself.” Sokka, regrettably, had to release one of Zuko’s hands so that he could free one of his own to search with. Zuko immediately gripped his jaw in an attempt to shove him off. 

_Must be something on his body_ , Sokka thought as he fumbled around blindly, _a piece of parchment, or anything to convey a message_. He rummaged along Zuko’s ribs and past the dip of his navel, only to be met with an unexpected hardness there and—oh. _Oh_. 

Zuko hissed and shuddered as Sokka made contact with him. The strength in Zuko's free arm wilted, giving Sokka enough freedom to peer down the body beneath him and register, with his own eyes, the impressive tent that had miraculously survived the tussle.

“Were you...trying to find a place to jerk off?” Sokka wondered absently, mesmerized by the sight of his own hand on Zuko, palm pressed against his length through his clothes. He wasn’t nearly as repulsed as he should be. In fact, his own cock twitched with interest just above.

When met with only silence as confirmation, Sokka slowly returned his gaze to Zuko’s face. Zuko didn’t look any less angry than before, but a flush had spread across his cheeks and down to his collarbone. Golden eyes glinting dangerously, Zuko bared his teeth, releasing smoke from his flared nostrils as flames danced at the edges of his lips.

 _Shit_. Sokka had somehow forgotten that Zuko could also _breathe_ fire.

“I’m sorry!” Sokka blurted out—ridiculous, really—that _this_ ended up being what made him apologize in earnest. “I didn’t know!”

He felt so incredibly stupid that he wouldn’t even blame Zuko for roasting him alive. He had to turn this around somehow if he had any chance of escaping unscathed. Explaining his injuries to Katara later would be too humiliating to bear.

“Wait, wait—” he babbled on, trying to buy himself some time to _think_. An idea came to him quickly—not a particularly smart one, he would acknowledge later in retrospect—but it was the only option he could think of, so he latched on to it. “I can make it up to you. I can help you out.”

He quickly lowered his body before Zuko could object, pressing his own hardness against the firebender almost as if in a show of solidarity. Zuko shuddered hard as the flames at his lips fizzled out. A low groan reverberated in his throat, and _fuck_ , it sounded so good, and Sokka wanted to hear it again. Damn Toph, for bringing this to his attention, of how _good_ Zuko’s voice could sound.

“Well, is this okay?” Sokka asked with a touch of uncertainty. Some verbal confirmation would be really helpful right now, even if Zuko appeared to have moved past his initial impulse to murder Sokka on the spot.

When met with silence yet again, Sokka gave a short, experimental thrust, and the sound Zuko made this time was nearly a whine. He threw both of his forearms over his eyes, hiding the deepening redness across his cheeks. “Damn you. _Move_.”

That was all the invitation Sokka needed, as he ground his hips against Zuko’s in earnest, rocking in a steady, satisfying pace. Zuko still had his face hidden, but Sokka couldn’t help but stare and stare at the firebender beneath him, lips bitten red from holding back his groans, body twitching and shaking in spite of himself. 

His brain supplied the unhelpful suggestion of kissing Zuko on those reddened lips, but Sokka banished the idea immediately. He wasn’t doing this because he _liked_ the jerk, or anything. He simply didn’t want to die.

“You don’t do this enough, do you?” Sokka spoke instead, which honestly was not much of a wiser decision. “Is this the first time in weeks, or what?”

Sokka snuck off nearly every other day to take care of his problems; he was a teenage boy, after all. He would have noticed if Zuko had done the same.

“I used to have much more privacy,” Zuko gritted out. 

“Sorry about that, your Majesty.” 

Zuko must have registered the teasing smugness in his voice because he uncovered his face then, swinging a weak punch that lacked much of the vitriol his expression suggested. Sokka caught him by the wrist before lowering it.

“Fine, okay, no more talking.”

And that reassurance seemed to placate the fire prince who relaxed once more beneath Sokka.

Neither of them lasted long after that. Zuko came first with a strangled cry, head tossed back and spine arching from the dewy grass beneath. Sokka sped up the pace as he chased his own pleasure, rubbing against Zuko even as the firebender grew soft and oversensitive, hands reaching down to grab Sokka’s forearms in a desperate attempt to ground himself. What ultimately nudged Sokka over the edge was the feeling of warm dampness seeping through Zuko’s pants, and in no time, his vision was blinded by white as the pleasure pooling in his lower half exploded to every inch of his body.

Sokka rolled off Zuko, collapsing on his side. A long beat of silence passed before Sokka could no longer contain the laughter bubbling in his chest. It bursted out of him so hard that his eyes began to water. Zuko shot straight up, glowering down at him.

“I’m not laughing at you, I swear— _ugh_!” he pleaded just as a knee (deservedly) crushed against his ribs.

~~

“Come on, Zuko. Wait up!” Sokka chased after the firebender, waddling a little because of the sticky, uncomfortable mess currently sloshing through his pants and underwear. Zuko must had been suffering the same, but that did not prevent him from stomping away at a punishing pace, shoving violently past the dense foliage around them.

“Get away from me!” he snarled, and Sokka had to fight back his grin. This was a tremendous fuck up on his part that also took a rather hilariously unexpected turn. He wanted to have a good laugh about it, but obviously, Zuko wasn’t quite there yet.

“We can’t just go back to the others like this,” Sokka pointed out, “Unless you want to wear soiled pants for the rest of the day.”

Zuko halted then, shoulders tensing.

“River’s the other way,” Sokka provided helpfully and found great amusement in the way Zuko growled in frustration, shoving past Sokka as he advanced in the opposite direction.

Once the river was in sight, Sokka wasted no time running to the pebbled banks, stripping himself down to his underwear in the process. Only after he had kicked off his pants did he realize that the firebender was walking away upriver. 

“Come on, we’re both guys,” he called after Zuko, teasing, “No need to be shy.”

The joke went over his head, in a typical Zuko fashion. “I’m not being _shy_ ,” he snapped back, “If I stayed here any longer, I might actually _kill_ you!” 

Holding back his smile, Sokka cleaned his clothes and body with more efficiency than care, before running upriver just in time to catch Zuko redressing himself in his own sopping wet clothes. Then the firebender closed his eyes and clenched his hands before him, concentrating as his body began to heat up, so that all the water on his clothes evaporated in a gust of white steam.

The move would’ve looked badass if the steam hadn’t left his hair kind of fluffy. 

“Can you do this for me too?” Sokka asked, stripping off his clothes before waiting for a response. He left his underwear on though, figuring he could deal with wet underwear until they returned to the camp. When Zuko made no effort to accept his clothing, Sokka added with a shrug, “The others might ask if I go back with wet clothes.”

With another growl, Zuko snatched his clothes, clenching them between an angry, white-knuckled fist as steam rose from the fabric, before shoving them back into Sokka’s chest.

“Hot, hot!” Sokka protested gingerly, airing the frabric to release some of the heat. 

They made their way back to the camp without any more complications. Three pairs of inquisitive eyes locked on them as they pushed passed the brambles and stepped out of the woods together.

“Where have you two been?” Katara asked, brows furrowing. “We were starting to get worried.”

Zuko showed no intention of answering her question, storming past her and the rest of their group before pushing through the entrance of his tent. With Zuko out of sight, all eyes now fell on Sokka.

“Uhh…a bit of a misadventure,” he chuckled nervously, dropping to the empty spot next to Aang. “So...what are we having for breakfast?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love to hear from you! Also, feel free to find me on tumblr as iiscos c:


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I obviously know what will happen in my fic, since I'm the one writing it and all, but Sokka's (and Zuko's) dumbness still manages to surprise me, somehow??
> 
> Okay, I think I have another quick-ish update after this, but then I'll need to watch Boiling Rock first before I can continue lol (I'm close to the end of book 2 now!)
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone who's read and commented!

Sokka tried to downplay the significance of the— _Zuko incident_. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. So what if he managed to get off with Zuko, former Fire Nation Crowned Prince, who also happened to be the first person he had ever gotten off with. Between dodging the Fire Nation army and finding masters to teach Aang, opportunities to pursue romance were few and far in between. There was Yue who became the moon, and Suki who had returned Sokka’s affections during the brief times they spent together on Kyoshi Island and in Ba Sing Se. But other than that, he had been stuck on a flying bison with Aang, Toph, and his sister, so romance simply was not an option.

Not that what had transpired between him and Zuko was romantic by any account. Far from it, actually—Sokka still couldn’t stand the guy. But he would be lying if he claimed he hadn’t _enjoyed_ getting off with Zuko. And out of everyone in the gang, Zuko _would_ be the only one he could even _possibly_ get off with...

Slim pickings, he thought dourly. 

Sokka would file this under experience. He was always open to trying new things, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to get experience any other way, or at least, not for a very long time. Besides, he wouldn’t even dream of doing something so quick and dirty with a nice girl like Suki. If she was here, he’d make her gifts and take her out on dates and court her properly.

So there.

Getting off with Zuko meant nothing. Even if he wouldn’t mind doing it again.

~~

Sokka waited until they returned to the Western Air Temple before approaching Zuko. It was late in the afternoon, just as the reddening sun was beginning to dip behind the distant mountains, limning the passing clouds in vibrant orange and gold. The firebender had stepped into the courtyard and appeared to be doing breathing exercises when Sokka found him. Zuko stiffened as he sensed the other boy's presence, shooting him a glare.

“Hey there,” Sokka greeted with a strained smile, “How’s it going?”

“What do you want,” Zuko demanded with narrowed eyes.

“Just to talk,” Sokka shrugged, “Are you still mad at me?”

The scowl on Zuko’s face was enough to answer. Sokka sighed.

“I really am sorry, you know? Sometimes my ideas are terrible. I thought you might’ve been spying on us. I don’t anymore.”

“Fine,” Zuko said briskly, still discontent, but neither was he searching for further explanation or apology. “Is that all?”

“Well, no,” Sokka fought the urge to fidget under the firebender’s stare. Zuko looked so cold and prickly that Sokka was beginning to wonder if this constituted one of his terrible ideas as well. “About what happened after—would you be up for doing it again?”

Zuko’s annoyance appeared to falter briefly, if only to return twofold. “Is this some kind of a joke?” 

“No!” Sokka threw his hands up, wincing. “I just thought that—well it felt good, and we both have to do it anyway, so why not do it together.”

Zuko worked his jaw but no words appeared to come to him. Too many emotions flashed across his face for Sokka to identify—shock, outrage, utter bafflement—and none of those were positive or reassuring. Sokka felt compelled to explain himself fully so that if Zuko did end up blasting him off the cliffs, he would at least have made a well informed decision.

“It’s just getting off,” Sokka continued, trying to sound reasonable, “It won’t _mean_ anything. You can close your eyes and think about someone else, I don’t care. That’s what I’m going to do. I just—figured it would be better with another person, you know? And the five of us are pretty much trapped here until the end of summer. And who else would you rather get off with?” He paused as he reconsidered his last point. “If you say my sister, I’ll kill you.”

Zuko was still staring at him as if he had grown two heads. He looked far from convinced, but at least he appeared to be thinking rather than actively trying to maim Sokka for suggesting something utterly inane. Still, Sokka didn’t think he was going to get an answer out of the firebender anytime soon, and his own confidence wavered as the silence stretched on. 

“That’s all I have to say,” he concluded awkwardly, taking a step back slowly followed by another as if he were retreating from a platypus bear. “Think about it and meet me here at midnight if you decide to give it a go.”

~~

After twenty minutes of waiting and still no sign of Zuko, humiliation was beginning to burn through Sokka. He replayed their exchange in his mind and wondered what he could have said differently. In short, he had proposed a mutual jerking off with a former enemy turned ally, whom he still didn’t particularly trust. What the hell was he thinking? Who would ever consider this a good idea, or even come up with it in the first place?

But Zuko eventually _did_ show up, pulling Sokka from his gloom and self-deprecation.

“Spirits, took you long enough,” Sokka complained as he leapt down from the banister surrounding the courtyard, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt.

“Well?” The firebender said, looking vexed, but regardless of the pretenses he might put on, the fact he was _here_ spoke far greater volumes.

Sokka led them up a set of half hidden stairs by the edge of the cliffs that connected to a small patch of woods just above the temples. Outside would be better, he explained his reasoning to Zuko. They wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught in the temple, or Toph sensing them, or something catastrophic like that. Toph could feel ants crawling in the dirt beneath them, for Spirit’s sake. Even on his own, Sokka wouldn’t want to beat off with her around.

“I’m just showing you one of the places I usually settle for,” Sokka was almost too obliging in his explanations as they maneuvered through the bushes and brambles. Absurdly, sneaking off from the rest of the group to jerk off was something in which he had more experience than Zuko, and he felt a pinch of pride in being able to share that experience. “I’ve had to do this for like the past six months. You won’t have to worry about anyone else finding you.”

“The only person who would look for me is _you_ ,” Zuko gritted out vehemently.

“Well, since I’m here already, you won’t have to worry about that either,” Sokka—still too giddy than he ought to be—grinned as he halted before a tall, burly oak. “Okay, up this tree. We are less likely to be seen up in a tree.”

They nestled in the junction where the thick trunk parted into two curving boughs, each straddling one side of the arch, facing one another. To be honest, it felt uncomfortable and a bit cramped. Sokka had underestimated the amount of space the two of them took up, but that shouldn’t matter for what he had envisioned taking place. They weren’t here to try anything complicated or fancy, after all.

“Also,” Sokka added with a twinge of uneasiness, “I like to be facing _away_ from the moon.”

“Why?” He could barely see Zuko’s face in the shadows, but the petulance in his voice carried through.

“Uh, past trauma,” he mumbled in response. “I’d rather not talk about it. Besides, you can see the stars better that way.”

Zuko turned around and looked up at the midnight sky through the leafy branches of the oak. Sokka was telling the truth. Without a cloud in sight, the pinprick stars glimmered fantastically against the ink-black abyss.

“You really put this much effort into setting the mood just for yourself,” Zuko half-scoffed.

“Hey, it’s the only time I have to myself,” Sokka reasoned defensively, “I like to try and make it nice.”

An awkward beat of silence passed, during which they continued to stare unseeingly at one another in the dark. Sokka could barely make out Zuko’s features, but he appeared younger and smaller the way he waited expectantly with his shoulders hunched, hidden beneath the shadows of something much larger and more ancient than either of them could imagine. He was just a teenager of the same age, Sokka reminded himself. Somehow, that fact had never appeared so apparent until now.

“Right,” Sokka cleared his throat. This was his idea after all, so naturally, he should be taking the initiative. “Well, I’m just going to get started.”

He palmed himself a couple of times before loosening the drawstrings of his pants. He was half-hard already because moronically, he had been imagining tonight ever since his proposal to Zuko. A brief moment later, he heard shuffling from the other side and assumed Zuko had done the same. 

“Okay, come closer,” Sokka said, reaching over and grabbing Zuko by the knee. Zuko shifted until Sokka could wrap an arm around his waist, and he pulled Zuko closer still until their groins were nearly aligned.

“So, uh, we can do each other, or I can do us both,” Sokka suggested, face burning and suddenly grateful for the darkness around them. Even if Zuko was _that_ much harder to read because of it.

“Umm.” He heard Zuko swallow, voice low and a little breathless. “Up to you.”

“Okay,” Sokka said and spat rather loudly into his palm. Zuko made a small groan of revulsion at the sound, but his dissent soon receded into a shuddery gasp as Sokka wrapped his hand around both of them, spreading the wetness with a few loose tugs before tightening his grip.

Zuko was hard, unyielding, and unnaturally warm against him. No obvious size disparity, as far as Sokka’s hand could tell. They were close enough for Sokka to feel Zuko’s breath on his neck and the brush of hair against his face whenever his head dipped. Sokka found himself paying less attention to his own pleasure and narrowed his focus almost entirely to the small, muffled sounds that would escape Zuko whenever he did something particularly to his liking. Those sounds were so lovely and intoxicating—made for Sokka, _because_ of Sokka—and if that didn’t just go straight to his head, as well as his cock.

“Do you want to try?” he asked and felt Zuko freeze before him. He appeared to deliberate for a moment before distancing himself.

“Yeah,” he breathed, settling both hands on Sokka’s knees.

“Okay,” Sokka said, releasing them as he heard Zuko, despite his earlier show of distaste, spit into the palm of his own hand.

Those sounds were less frequent, much to Sokka’s disappointment, now that Zuko had something else to focus on. But it also gave Sokka a chance to close his eyes and rest against the trunk of the tree, to relax and just enjoy the moment. Like his cock, Zuko’s hand felt unnaturally warm. In spite of the firm grip and callouses from years of swordsmanship, his touch was also surprisingly gentle, and Sokka decided that this was insanely good, so much better than with his own hand alone. 

“Is this okay?” Zuko asked after another stretch of silence, voice soft and just a touch shy, making Sokka’s insides twist in ways he was unprepared for.

“Yeah, it’s good,” he said, breathless, “Really good.”

The affirmation seemed to inspirit the firebender, who proceeded with more confidence. Sokka felt pleasure strumming beneath his skin, bubbling fierce and hot. He reached over and wrapped his own hand around Zuko’s so that they were pumping together.

“Close. What about you?” he whispered, not wanting to come before Zuko. Or at least, by much.

“Yeah,” Zuko whispered back, and soon enough, they were gasping together, heat and wetness coating their hands. 

~~

They did this a few more times the following week, meeting around midnight before sneaking away to the adjacent woods. Sokka always initiated, but Zuko never opposed the suggestion, or at least, not outright. Sometimes, he would suggest a later day if he were busy or tired, but Sokka was just elated that Zuko would agree to any of this at all.

His begrudging rivalry with the firebender also appeared to taper. Apparently, having Zuko wanting to jerk off with him was a viable replacement for having Zuko wanting to fight him. And _finally_ , Sokka had found some hidden, private aspect of Zuko that the latter appeared willing to share. Zuko might spend his days firebending with Aang or spill whatever heart-to-hearts about fathers and great grandfathers to Toph and Katara, but the utter absurdity of jerking off together in the dark belonged to Sokka and Sokka alone. This was his _thing_ with Zuko that no one else could stake a claim to.

The sudden lift in tension between him and the firebender was not lost on the rest of the gang. Katara nearly congratulated him on his maturity the other day, although a twinge of suspicion remained in her clever eyes. But Sokka doubted she would ever guess the actual reason behind their unexpected truce. 

“Where are you going?” he asked Katara when he finally found her by the stables one day, tightening the straps on Appa’s saddle. He had spent the morning crafting throwing knives out of obsidian and wanted to show her the new designs he had carved into the handle. 

“I’m going to the market,” Katara replied without sparing him any of her focus, “We’re running low on a few things.”

“I didn’t notice anything missing,” Sokka remarked, “Like what?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” His sister rolled her eyes with exaggerated annoyance. “Lantern oil, thread, _soap_? And don’t worry, I’m not asking you to come. Zuko already agreed.”

She said the last part with a touch of discontentment, a poorly disguised attack at Sokka for not offering to help her more frequently.

Sokka scoffed and made an effort to appear nonchalant. “Just because he agreed to something doesn’t mean he’s a warrior in shiny armor happy to whisk you away from all your problems.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Katara protested.

“Come on, face it,” Sokka continued with an air of self-satisfaction, “Of course he’s going to listen to you. He still wants to prove to everyone that he can be trusted, right? He’ll say yes to doing your stupid chores just to get on your good side, even if it’s not something that he actually wants to—”

Sokka broke off suddenly, the rest of his sentence seizing in his throat as he choked on the horror of this untimely realization. Zuko wouldn’t—with Sokka—would he?

“What’s the matter, Sokka?” Katara asked, concern for him nullifying her previous irritation. “You don’t look so well.”

“I—I have to go,” he managed between panicked breaths as he turned on his heels and _fucking ran._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst alert in the next few chapters~
> 
> Thanks for reading and love to hear from you (i'm also iiscos on tumblr) <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is a CRIME that we only got the Gaang + Zuko for half of Book 3. I just finished watching the beach episode, and it was the mother of all fillers. I'm so tempted to just skip to boiling rock so I can work on the next chapter of this fic but I haven't quite reached that level of desperation
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all the love on the last chapter! Hate to keep you guys waiting so enjoy the quick updates while they last~

“Sokka.” Zuko blinked at him as he opened his door, golden eyes hazy with exhaustion. He was half dressed—which was a distraction—as he obviously was preparing to go to sleep. “I don’t think I want to scale up a cliff and climb that tree tonight.”

“That—That’s not why I’m here,” Sokka swallowed thickly. It was late in the evening, too late for starting the conversation he had planned, but Sokka felt as if he would burn alive from the inside if he waited until morning to approach Zuko. “Can we talk?”

The firebender hesitated by the doorway, eyeing Sokka curiously, before opening his door wider in invitation. “Sure,” he said with a shrug, “Come in.”

Sokka had never seen the inside of Zuko’s chamber at the temple before. The room was similar to the rest of theirs, dilapidated from the years of disuse, vacant and bare due to their lack of possessions from traveling light. A lantern sat on his desk, glowing warm above scattered parchments and ancient scrolls. He must have been studying firebending forms prior to Sokka’s unexpected visit.

Zuko made a gesture to the lone chair at his desk, offering it to Sokka, before dropping to sit at the edge of his bed. “Well, what is it?” he asked, rubbing his eyes with both hands. 

Sokka bit his lip, his heart hammering violently against his chest. “Why did you agree to do those things with me?”

The question was vague enough for Zuko to wonder, but his face soon reddened with uncomfortable realization. “You mean in the forest?”

They had both abided to an unspoken rule of _not_ _talking about it_ , with the reason being how nauseatingly awkward it would be if they did, exemplified by their present conversation. Zuko watched Sokka carefully, trying to decipher the reason behind his sudden concern. Or perhaps—Sokka thought, swallowing back dread—he was searching for the answer that Sokka wanted to hear.

“Because...I want to?” Zuko said eventually, uncertain and unconvincing, and Sokka felt panic rising in his chest, climbing into his voice. 

“But _why_ do you want to?"

“The same reasons as you do.”

“That’s not good enough.” 

Zuko narrowed his eyes, annoyance flitting over his features. “That’s good enough for you but not for me?” 

“No— _ugh_!” Sokka buried his face in his hands, before deciding to alter his approach. “Katara. Why do you do all those chores for her when we both know how useless some of those could be?”

“I’m just trying to help,” Zuko answered warily.

“It’s because you’re trying to make up for all the shitty things you did in the past,” Sokka accused. “And you want her to trust you.”

Those were not kind things to say, and neither were they said in a kind manner. Zuko stiffened, his barriers reinstated so forcibly that Sokka could practically feel the temperature drop in the air around them. And only then did Sokka realize how soft and unguarded the firebender had been, warm and vulnerable beneath the lantern light. 

“So?” Zuko said with cold defiance. Guilt might not be the driving force behind his decisions, but it was profound enough to matter, raw enough to hurt when deliberately pressed. “I know I can’t make up for everything I’ve done, but it’s a start.”

“Why did you agree to do those things with me?” Sokka asked again, hoping to have made his intentions clearer this time, and the way the firebender’s expression opened just a fraction suggested that he had likely succeeded.

Caught out, Zuko fell quiet and still for a moment, during which Sokka sank deeper into his own anger and shame. Those midnight meetings with Zuko, which had always left him feeling wicked, mischievous, and just a touch proud, were unraveling into an awful, dirty exchange. And it had been Sokka’s damned idea in the first place. Perhaps he had forced Zuko’s hand or offered a path of least resistance that Zuko felt compelled to accept. Sokka clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes in an attempt to push past the misery knotting his stomach.

“I’m not doing this _because_ I want to earn your trust that way,” Zuko eventually spoke, looking vexed and offended, but Sokka wondered if his anger was genuine. So much could be hidden behind a mask of anger. “Is that what you were getting at?”

“I—” Sokka stammered, words trapped in his throat. “How can I be sure? How can either of us?”

“Because,” Zuko heaved a long, world-weary sigh, “I would have agreed even if you did consider me a friend.”

Sokka froze.

Fuck. _Fuck_. Why would he go and say something that would leave himself so exposed? Sokka certainly felt that way. What did Zuko even mean by that? Did he wish to be friends? No—not quite—his response lacked clear intent, just separation of his desire to spend time with Sokka to the possibility of obtaining his friendship that way. As a refute to Sokka’s previous accusation, the logic was unquestionably sound.

Sokka found no real emotion behind those words—no sadness, resentment, or longing for the contrary. Zuko had simply stated a fact, which now hung heavily in the air between them, demanding Sokka to acknowledge it as well. Maybe the firebender really had been spending too much time with Toph, adopting her motto of _words don’t matter as long as you’re honest_. 

“Zuko, I—” Sokka wanted to say that he _did_ consider him a friend, if only it were true. They didn’t talk or spend much time together during the day. Sokka never once extended a genuine effort in getting to know the firebender or help him integrate into the team. In fact, up until recent weeks, he had done the exact opposite. And now, he was only interested in getting off together on a near biweekly basis, in secret and away from the rest of their friends. “ _Fuck_ —I’m sorry.”

Spirits, he was such an _asshole_.

“It’s fine,” Zuko sighed again, running his hand through his dark mop of hair. A look of neutrality falling over his features, the firebender now considered this issue resolved. Sokka was no longer upset, and that was good enough for him, never mind whether Sokka’s anger was justified or if he had said unkind things in the process.

It wasn’t fine, and Sokka knew. He wished Zuko would be more upset with him.

~~

The next day, Sokka found Katara in one of the spare drawing rooms, sewing their torn clothes with Momo napping on her lap. They ripped their clothes often during sparring and combat and could spare so little money for replacements. Someone had to do this for the team. Toph was blind, and Aang had to focus every ounce of his energy on mastering all four elements. Zuko probably helped Katara whenever she asked. And Sokka...well, Sokka was difficult to coerce into doing such chores in the past.

He lowered himself to sit in the vacant spot beside his sister and reached for a pair of his own torn pants.

“Are you...delirious from a fever?” Katara turned to him, wide-eyed. “Or did you drink cactus juice again? Maybe the Fire Nation kidnapped my brother and sent back a much more helpful replacement.”

“Oh, shut up,” Sokka grumbled, reluctantly amused. “I know I don’t help you enough.”

Katara smiled beside him, returning to her to sewing. They worked in comfortable silence, disturbed only by Sokka’s occasional hissing whenever he pricked his finger by accident. After the fourth time, he set the needle down and thought carefully about the words he was about to say.

“Why did you forgive Zuko for what he did to us?”

Katara tensed, and when she responded, her voice was barely a whisper. “I haven’t. Or at least, not entirely.”

“But you...accept him.”

“I believe that he’s sorry,” she reasoned, “And we’re all working towards the same goal now.”

“But what helped you to even reach this point,” Sokka insisted, “To forgive him _enough_ to accept him as part of the team?”

Katara put her needle down as well, brows furrowing. “Don’t get upset at me for saying this, but—at times, he reminds me of you.”

“I’m not upset,” Sokka encouraged upon seeing her hesitation, “But— _how_?” 

“He lost his mother,” Katara continued with quiet, doe-eyed sadness, “He idolized his father. He has a younger sister—except, his father and sister, who are supposed to love him, treated him cruelly. Nothing can excuse all the terrible things that Zuko had done, but whenever I think about him, and then think about you, and how lost we’d be if we didn’t have each other, it makes forgiving him a little easier.”

Her eyes were glossy by the time she finished, just as Sokka pulled her into a bone-crushing hug.

“Katara—” he whispered into her hair, overwhelmed by his love and gratitude for her. “Thank you for telling me this.”

“Of course,” she said, returning his embrace, and Sokka relaxed into her warmth, feeling the flickers of wet lashes against his cheeks.

~~

“Am I late?” Zuko asked, upon exiting his room and noticing Sokka leaning against the opposite wall rather than waiting for him at his usual hiding spot in the courtyard.

“No.” Sokka shook his head, pushing himself to stand. “I thought maybe we could stay here tonight.”

“Here?” Zuko narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were worried about getting caught.”

Sokka flashed his most devious grin. “Not if you stay quiet.”

A bed was so much more comfortable than a tree, but also, more awkwardly intimate now that they could actually _see_ each other. Sokka laid Zuko on his back and watched him hide his face as his flush spread absolutely everywhere. He nestled between the firebender's legs and worked him to a near frenzy until Zuko was strung tight and gasping, only a stroke or two away from release.

And then, Sokka stopped.

A strangled cry escaped Zuko— _beautiful_ , he thought—as the firebender leaned over and grabbed Sokka by his forearm, a wordless plea for him to continue. 

Their eyes met then, and Sokka couldn’t help but scan his face, perfect like porcelain on one side only to recede into red burn marks, pulling tight at the ridges as it swept across his left eye like molten waves. Zuko realized what he was doing, falling back and trying to hide his pained expression, but he couldn’t hide the way he had begun to wilt in Sokka’s hand.

No, no, that wasn’t what Sokka had wanted. He sped up his hand to coax him back to hardness, running his other through messy, dark hair and tugging with gentle insistence so that Zuko would face him again. 

Zuko made a wounded sound in protest, eyes fluttering shut as if he were afraid to see what expression he might find on Sokka’s face—or perhaps, his own reflection in Sokka’s eyes.

Sokka felt an unfamiliar pain stab at the walls of his heart, and he did something he had previously sworn to himself that he would never do. He kissed Zuko, not on the lips but on his cheek, tracing the edge where his scar met his perfect skin. Zuko shivered as Sokka pulled his hair harder, baring his throat so Sokka could latch on and lap at the spot where he had once broken with his blade.

“Don’t leave a mark where the others can see,” Zuko reminded him, his voice a low trum against Sokka’s lips.

Sokka grinned as he gave the flushed skin a parting nip. “Then I’ll leave one somewhere they can’t see.”

~~

Sokka wiped Zuko down with a damp cloth. The firebender hummed in response, boneless and utterly spent as he rubbed away the tiredness from his sleep-heavy eyes. Kiss marks covered his body—collarbone, chest, ribs, hips, navel—blossoming pink against fair skin. They would disappear by morning but Sokka still felt a rush of pride as he traced over them with his eyes. Zuko was so responsive, and Sokka had wanted to kiss him _everywhere_ , finding all the places that made him shiver and moan. 

In the end, Sokka settled for a spot in his soft, inner thigh—where absolutely no one else would see—and sucked a bruise into the firebender’s skin until he came ribbons in Sokka’s hand. The plum-colored mark was hidden now, and Sokka grinned as Zuko sighed weakly when he traced it with a thumb over the fabric of his pants.

“Allow me,” Zuko offered as he pushed himself to sit, reaching for the hem of Sokka’s pants only to frown at him, puzzled, when Sokka gently blocked his advances. 

“Not tonight,” Sokka said, “I’ll take care of myself later.”

“Oh.” Zuko dropped his hands, looking away with a hint of uncertainty.

“Not that I wouldn’t enjoy that,” Sokka quickly amended, “But I kind of just—want to lie here for a while, if that’s okay with you?”

He lowered himself onto the bed, half of his body nearly hanging off it. Zuko shifted to give him more space, so that he was pressed against the wall on the other side.

“Yeah, sure.”

They laid there without speaking on the too narrow bed, close enough to feel each other’s warmth without touching. Sokka eventually spoke first, filling the quiet, lantern-lit void.

“My first girlfriend turned into the moon,” he said. “That’s why I don’t want to face the moon when I’m doing stuff like this. You might not believe me, but she was the princess of the Northern Water Tribe. Princess Yue.”

“I know,” Zuko admitted, “Well, not that part but—I was there too, the night she became the moon. I wasn’t there to destroy the moon spirit, but my reasons weren’t much better.”

“I know,” Sokka said, “but bygones.” 

Zuko looked at him, a flicker of something delicate danced in his golden eyes, tender like candlelight. And then he smiled, a barely there kind of smile—faint and fragile and so completely unaware of its own existence. “Thank you.”

In the silence that ensued, Sokka counted his own heartbeats before Zuko spoke again. “Is she who you think about?”

“Think about?” Sokka repeated before realization sank in. “During this? Oh, _no_. A lot has happened since then and—well, I’m sort of involved with Suki now. She’s the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors, although I haven’t seen her since we first reached Ba Sing Se.”

“Oh,” Zuko said. Did he sound disappointed? Sokka knew he could have easily imagined that. Zuko was probably well aware of his affections for Suki. Sokka had mentioned her enough times before when they were with the rest of the group. He didn’t exactly want to bring her up now but—it was only fair to be honest.

“What about you?” Sokka nudged him softly.

“I used to have a girlfriend,” Zuko admitted after a moment of consideration, “But I think that ended when I left the Fire Nation.”

“Is she who you think about during…”

“No, I don’t think about anyone,” Zuko said and immediately flushed at the implication. Sokka felt his chest swell. 

“Me neither,” Sokka confessed, before realizing that the implication was too significant for him to withstand as well. Face burning, he fumbled for a defense. “I mean—you’re very different. You _feel_ different. You’re a guy!”

“Yeah,” Zuko let out a breathy laugh, “I am.”

“I like both so that’s fine.”

“I liked—my girlfriend,” Zuko ventured carefully as if treading water, “But it never felt quite right. I never thought about being with a guy. That simply was not an option when I was living in the palace.”

“Well you’re not now, and you can do whatever the hell you want,” Sokka snorted, “And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He felt like he needed to emphasize the last part.

“I know,” Zuko agreed softly as their conversation tapered to an end.

They fell silent again, during which Sokka deliberated his next words. And when he finally gathered the nerve to speak, he made an effort to sound detached, even though in reality, he cared very much for what Zuko would say in response.

“If you want, we can spar again. I promise I won’t overdo it this time.”

“Okay,” Zuko agreed as his eyes fluttered closed, as simple as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter wasn't as angsty as I had envisioned, but I'll still keep the angst warning up for now until the eventual happy ending lmao
> 
> Thanks for reading thus far! Love to hear from you c:


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally reached the point of Zuko's redemption arc in my second viewing of ATLA!!
> 
> I also managed to squeeze out another chapter before the meat of the Boiling Rock, hence the quick update. Some dialogue are taken from the show directly, while others are obviously not. 
> 
> As always, thank you for everyone who has read and commented! You guys are the best <33

Zuko held no reservations about kicking Sokka’s ass the next time they sparred. Despite landing a few opportune strikes, Sokka nevertheless found his cleverness outmatched by years of training and discipline. Hair loose and chest heaving, Sokka finally conceded defeat as he laid flat on his back and stared at the upside-down figure of Zuko whose weapons remained poised above him.

“Pay back for last time?” Sokka heaved out between labored gasps.

“No,” Zuko replied, lowering his swords, “Thought you’d appreciate a good fight.”

The firebender stepped around him and extended a hand, which Sokka accepted with a grin. They took a moment to cool down and rehydrate, toweling off sweat with their abandoned shirts. Sokka caught Zuko eyeing his sword—sheathed now and slung across his back—and waited for the firebender to voice his curiosity.

“Your methods are...unconventional,” Zuko commented. It was the closest to a compliment he had ever received while speaking with Zuko.

“Thanks,” Sokka grinned, “My master said the same thing. I trained with Master Piandao briefly when we were in Shu Jing.”

“Piandao,” Zuko echoed, eyes widening, “He was my master when I was young. I’m surprised he took you as his student.”

“Why? Because I’m from the Water Tribe?”

“No, I’m surprised he took a student at all," Zuko frowned, "I was the Crowned Prince at the time, and even then, he was reluctant.”

“What can I say?” Sokka shrugged, “I showed him my worthiness by admitting that I was completely unworthy.”

Zuko nodded, unmoved by his old master’s cryptic demeanor. “I suppose you crafted your own blade.” 

“Yeah, out of metal from a meteorite,” Sokka revealed with a touch of pride. He removed the sling from his back and offered the sheathed sword to the firebender. “Pretty cool, right? Want to try it out?”

Zuko’s eyes grew even wider at the unexpected offer. He collected himself promptly, nodding once as he accepted the blade, before unsheathing it slowly and regarding the slick, dark metal with something akin to admiration. Zuko stepped back to the center of the sparring room, working through a few forms as he familiarized himself with the blade. Sokka watched on, mesmerized, as Zuko gained more confidence, his movements fluid and agile as he lunged and dipped in his hypnotic dance. Then, he summoned his flames, burning bright at the sword’s edge as he left a cackling trail with each movement that soon circled around him like rings of fire moths. It was a devastating display of power and skill—untouchable, destructive, _beautiful_.

“Alright, now you’re just showing off,” Sokka complained despite the sudden dryness in his throat. He never thought he could enjoy watching someone else wield his blade as much as he was in that moment, and Zuko honestly needed to _stop_ so Sokka could regain some of his wits.

The firebender ground to a halt as flames extinguished in the air around him, leaving only falling embers. He showed no indication of rejoining Sokka, however, as he frowned at the matted floor between them.

“When I first incorporated swordsmanship and firebending, Master Piandao also praised me for being unconventional. I was so excited to show my father, only for him to call it a perversion of the sacred art of firebending. Then Piandao was branded a traitor for abandoning the Fire Nation Army, and I was forbidden to wield my swords within the palace walls.”

“Well... _shit_.” Sokka wished he could have conjured a more articulate response, but the crestfallen way the firebender had spilled those words compelled him to say something, anything at all, to lessen his burden. “I don’t care what your father thinks, but what you did just now can edge over any purist crap.”

“Only firebending mattered to my family, to any noble family,” Zuko confessed, “Firebending always came so naturally to my sister. I’m not a prodigy like her. ”

“Wouldn’t have guessed that from all the fireballs you used to throw our way,” Sokka remarked, only to withdraw as Zuko’s frown deepened. “Oh, can’t I make a joke about it by now? Also, if you’re going to complain about being overshadowed by a sibling, you really picked the wrong guy.”

“My point is,” Zuko snapped, frustration obscuring his brief display of vulnerability, “I can teach the Avatar what I know about firebending, but I’m no Master. I can’t even summon lightning. I don’t know if I’m fit to be his teacher.”

“But that’s just— _ridiculous_ ,” Sokka stammered, and it was the truth. Zuko _was_ being ridiculous, and Sokka had no idea that _this_ was how his stupid mind even worked. “Look at Katara. When we first left the South Pole, she could barely do any waterbending. But she still helped Aang where she could, and they learned to master the element together. Toph too, as amazing as she is an earthbender when we found her, she figured out metal-bending _after_ we reached Ba Sing Se. So what if you can’t lightning-bend yet? No one expects you to know _everything_. What you can teach Aang now is more than enough, and if we ever reach a point beyond that—well, we can figure something out together.”

Zuko’s eyes were once again startled wide, but something in his expression unlocked to convey that perhaps, Sokka had managed to touch him with his words. They continued to stare at each other for a long, awkward, loaded silence, as a flush crept up Zuko’s skin from neck to ear. He appeared embarrassed and confused, and his inability to respond at all to Sokka’s rant only added to his embarrassment and confusion. 

“I—I’m not used to this,” the firebender eventually managed, shying away.

“Yeah, well, neither am I,” Sokka grumbled. Whatever the hell _this_ is. 

Zuko returned his sword to him, before dropping down to sit with his back against the nearest wall, head hanging between his knees. Sokka lowered to the vacant spot next to the firebender, unsure of what else to do. 

“I can’t summon lightning, but I can redirect it,” Zuko admitted, “My uncle taught me a move that he learned from watching waterbenders, using defense as offense.”

“Yeah?” Sokka encouraged him softly.

“I’ve only used it once, on the day of the solar eclipse when my father aimed lightning at me. I was able to redirect it and escape, but I haven’t had the opportunity to try again.”

It was unsettling the way Zuko described his father’s ruthlessness with resignation and, almost, detachment. Sokka thought about his own father with a heavy heart, captured as a prisoner during the failed invasion that very day. The plan had been Sokka’s, and he alone must shoulder the blame. But even in the wake of such momentous failure, his father had shown him love and compassion, given him a route of escape and above all, hope to fight another day. What kind of a man would Zuko be if he had a father like Hakoda? What kind of a man would Sokka be if his father had been Ozai?

“It’s ironic,” Zuko continued, his voice quivering just at the edges, “That even after everything I’ve done to my uncle, turned my back on all the kindness he had shown me, betraying him when he needed me the most, that it was Uncle and his teachings that saved me in the end. I could have done the right thing in Ba Sing Se, but I didn’t—I was such a fool. I wish he was here. He would be a better master to the Avatar, and we would both learn so much from him.”

Zuko missed his uncle. It was absurd to have assumed, even offhandedly, that he missed no one after leaving a home that seemed to harbor nothing but loneliness and cruelty for the unwanted prince. It must have taken a lot of guts, Sokka acknowledged, for Zuko to abandon his family, his crown, his _everything_ and surrender himself to former enemies, showing them such a degree of unconditional humility so that he could finally earn their trust. And Sokka had been so preoccupied with his own anger and hurt—some justified, some misplaced—that he never considered whether Zuko had healed from his own self-dealt wounds.

“Where is your uncle now?” Sokka asked sullenly.

“I don’t know,” the firebender responded in abject misery, “I wanted to break him out of prison, but—by the time I reached his cell, it was empty. He had broken himself out.”

“Well, if he was able to break out of a maximum security prison all by himself, then he must be able to hold his own. You’ll find him again, and once you do—I think he’d be proud to know everything you’ve done since.”

Compassion in the form of logic was the best Sokka could offer. He lacked Katara’s kind words and even kinder gestures, but he still attempted to mimic her gentleness as he extended an arm to wrap around Zuko’s shoulder, urging him with awkward insistence into a sideways hug. Zuko stiffened briefly before relaxing in his embrace, allowing Sokka to reposition him so that his head now rested on Sokka’s shoulder while Sokka’s cheek pressed into his sweat-damp hair.

They remained in this tentative position as Sokka pondered the strongholds of the Northern Water Tribe, Roku’s temple on the crescent island, Lake Laogi in Ba Sing Se, the Western Air Temple hidden along the cliffs’ edge, and finally, the capital prison of the Fire Nation where Zuko’s uncle had been detained. All these places Zuko had managed to infringe with little to no help at all. 

“You...sure are good at breaking your way into places,” Sokka mused, as this realization sent his mind reeling into motion for the rest of the day.

~~

Zuko’s mood seemed to have lifted by the evening as he prepared tea for the rest of the group, trying and failing to recall one of his uncle’s favorite jokes. By the time he reached Sokka to pour him a cup, Sokka pulled the firebender aside for a word in private instead. 

“If someone was captured by the Fire Nation, where would they be taken?”

“What do you mean?” Zuko furrowed his brows. “Who was captured?”

“Some of our troops were taken when the invasion plan failed,” Sokka explained, “I just want to know where they might be.”

Zuko watched him with calculating golden eyes, before responding with an emphatic, “No.”

“Please—” Sokka did not hold himself above begging, “It’s my dad. He was captured too. I need to know what I put him through.”

Zuko’s cold demeanor appeared to soften at the mention of his father. And after that, Sokka was able to extract information from the firebender with relative ease. Zuko told him about the Boiling Rock, the highest security prison in the Fire Nation built on an island surrounded by a lake of boiling water. It was inescapable but conveniently located in a volcano between the temple and the Fire Nation that they had actually flown past on the day of their escape.

Despite reassuring the firebender that information was all he had wanted, Sokka was caught by Zuko the same night as he attempted to sneak away on Appa while everyone else was asleep. 

“Not up to anything, huh?” Zuko glowered at him.

Sokka cried out as the surprise of finding the firebender already camped in Appa’s saddle teetered him off balance. He fell backwards onto his ass, supplies spilling out of his satchel.

“Fine, you caught me,” he admitted with indignity, “I’m going to rescue my dad. Are you happy now?”

“I’m never happy,” Zuko remarked as Sokka angrily gathered his belongings. 

This was something that he simply had to do. The invasion was Sokka’s idea, and the decision to stay when they found the royal city abandoned was also his. He was prepared to fight Zuko, but instead of obstructing his path or alerting the others, Zuko insisted that he should come as well. He had some knowledge of the prison systems, and he could operate the war balloon, which was a much more inconspicuous mode of travel than a flying bison. Besides, Aang and the rest of the team might need Appa while they were gone. Sokka found it difficult to argue with such sound reasoning, agreeing to board the war balloon before the break of dawn. 

They traveled mostly in silence, with Zuko blasting fire into the tank while Sokka sat at the stern of the ship, racking his brains for a plan. He watched the clouds sweep by as they accelerated through the early morning sky, not as fast as if they were on Appa but enough to drive his heart to a racing beat. 

“You knew I was going to go rescue my dad,” Sokka eventually broke their silence.

“Of course,” said Zuko, “I’m not stupid.”

“And you planned to come with me,” Sokka remarked, “Why?”

The firebender appeared to ponder, before responding in a voice so low that he was nearly drowned out by the noise of the flaring engine. “Before, you asked me if I did those things with you to earn your trust, and I said no. But this is something I would do.”

Sokka had to strain to hear what the firebender had to say, and once Zuko’s response registered at last, Sokka felt frustration rankle in his chest. 

“ _Fuck_ —Zuko, you really _are_ stupid,” he growled, “You don’t need to do insane, reckless, _dangerous_ things to prove yourself. We _already_ trust you. _I_ trust you. Maybe I should have mentioned this earlier, but I thought it was obvious by now. I had good reasons for wanting to go alone. Hakoda is my father, and the failed mission is my mistake to fix. And, I can’t bear the thought of anyone else getting hurt because of me, and that includes _you_.”

Zuko was beginning to look flustered again, as if this were all new information to him. Sokka buried his face in his hands because, _fuck_ , did he really need to spell out every little thing to get his points across? They could still turn back, and Sokka would find another way to get to the Boiling Rock without Zuko’s help—

“No,” the firebender said, as if reading his mind, “My family, my bloodline started this war. That’s the reason your father was captured. I want to help you free him. It's my responsibility as well.”

Sokka wanted to refute that argument because even though Zuko was the son of the Fire Lord, to claim responsibility for a war started by his great grandfather nearly 100 years ago, seemed too great of a burden for him to bear—or at least, to bear alone. But Zuko smiled then—an open, mischievous smile that almost never reared into existence—and all words evaporated from Sokka’s brain as the firebender continued with a pleased air, echoing Sokka’s words back to him.

“And like you said, I sure am good at breaking into places.”

Sokka shook his head, grinning despite himself. They agreed to continue with their plan, although neither of them mentioned how the outcome of Sokka’s well-thought strategies rarely measured up to reality, while the ingenuity of Zuko’s break-ins typically ended there—after breaking in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw it's actually canon that Sokka and Zuko both trained under Piandao!!
> 
> Thanks for reading and love to hear from you c: <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to get into the nitty gritty of the Boiling Rock episodes since we all know what happens. So I decided to just focus on a few scenes that I felt were important for plot/zukka development (and also shamelessly added my own zukka scene). There's also an end in sight for this fic now! Maybe 10-12 chapters and an epilogue in total?
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone who has followed along this far! You guys are honestly the best <3

Their mission started out rough and only seemed to get rougher as the day progressed. The war balloon had lost altitude immediately upon entering the gush of steam emitted from the volcano, the air outside too hot to sustain their flight. By sheer luck, they landed on the rocky shores rather than the bubbling lake where they certainly would been boiled alive. Sokka gave the war balloon a proper water burial, before they sneaked into the towering prison and donned their disguises as reserve guards. They then split to cover more ground, before reconvening on a terrace looking down into the courtyard.

“I asked around the lounge,” Zuko said upon finding Sokka. “There are no Water Tribe prisoners. I’m afraid your father’s not here.”

“No, no,” Sokka gritted out, anguish threatening to ruin him. He had come all the way here for nothing. He had failed again. Worst of all, he had dragged Zuko along, and now, they were both trapped in an inescapable prison, one misstep away from suffering the same fate for which his father had _sacrificed_ himself so that Sokka could escape. 

“Uncle would have something wise to say,” Zuko sighed as he stared at the passing clouds. “Sometimes, clouds have two sides, a dark and light, and a silver lining in between—”

Sokka wasn’t listening to him. He needed to _think_ if they had any chance of escaping. The risk of being caught would only grow exponentially the more time they wasted on this island. Sooner or later, the other guards would realize that they were two fucking _teenagers_ who certainly didn’t belong in their camp.

And that was when he spotted her, sitting alone on one of those cinder block benches, clad in a raggy prison garb rather than her fierce Kyoshi warrior armor. 

“It’s Suki!” Sokka exclaimed, pushing off the wall so he could lean over the railing to get a better look. “Spirits, it really is her! Maybe we haven't failed after all!”

Zuko fell silent, following his line of vision as bells rang around them, signaling for all prisoners—Suki included—to return to their cells. 

“I—I have to go see her,” Sokka said in haste, lowering the visor of his helmet as he sped off the terrace, leaving Zuko behind.

Sokka approached Suki once she was locked in her cell, amused by her initial failure to recognize him even as she shoved him forcefully against the door and knocked off his helmet in the process. Sokka watched blearily as anger and bewilderment dissolved into recognition, tears of relief soon welling in her eyes.

“Sokka!” she cried out, falling into his arms. “Spirits, I missed you!”

“I missed you too,” he breathed into her hair, returning her embrace with as much force as he could muster without hurting her. “The other Kyoshi warriors, are they here?”

“No.” Suki shook her head dejectedly, distancing herself. “I don’t know where they are. They locked me in here because I’m the leader.”

“Well, you won't be here for long,” Sokka reassured her, tracing the curve of her rosy cheek that fit so perfectly in his palm. “I’m busting you out.”

Suki leaned into his touch and smiled, eyes fluttering shut as she covered her hand over his. “I’m so glad to see you Sokka. I knew you’d come.”

He pressed his lips against hers, his longing and affection for her pooling in his chest, warming every inch of him. He had missed her for so long that he ached and had worried equally since learning of her capture months earlier. And now, she was here, in his arms and _alive_ , and he swore to the Spirits that he would never let her—

Two slams against the prison door jolted them apart, and Sokka could hear Zuko’s voice on the other side, stammering in the way he usually did when forced to come up with a lie on the spot. It was ridiculous really, how terrible of a liar he was—

 _Zuko_. Spirits, Sokka had forgotten about him in his haste to find Suki. Zuko must have followed him and acted as look-out, and Sokka, the absolute idiot he was, managed to overstay his visit.

“You can’t go in there,” Zuko insisted to the other guard, “The lights are out and—”

Their conversation soon devolved into a tussle as Zuko seized the other guard, slamming him against the floor. The firebender provided enough cover for Sokka to tip-toe out of Suki’s cell but not enough for him to turn the corner unnoticed. Sokka was summoned to detain the “imposter,” and Zuko gave in to him easily as Sokka pinned his wrists behind his back, leading him away.

Zuko’s face was hidden beneath the helmet, but the tension radiating from his body was not lost on Sokka. The firebender was angry and— _fuck_ , Sokka would be too. His decision had been reckless and his judgement poor, and someone else ended up taking the fall for him. This was becoming a recurring theme, Sokka thought bitterly. 

He tightened his grip around Zuko’s wrists, pulling him roughly backwards. “I’ll figure this out, okay?” he whispered into his ear, “I’ll come back for you. Don’t you dare—even for a second—think I wouldn’t.”

~~

They kept Zuko in a locked room separate from the rest of the prison cells because— _of course, they would_ —he was the treasonous prince after all. The warden soon paid him a visit, and Sokka managed to catch their conversation as he hid among the small army of guards that shadowed the warden constantly.

“How did you know who I am?” he heard Zuko say. 

“How could I not?” the warden sneered, “You broke my niece's heart.”

“Y-You’re Mai’s uncle?” A pause. “I never meant to hurt her.”

 _Mai...Mai...the gloomy girl who sighs a lot and is constantly throwing sharp things at them?_ Sokka soon realized with indignation. _She_ was the girlfriend that Zuko had left behind?

“Quiet! You’re my _special_ prisoner now, and you best behave.” The warden’s menacing tone yanked Sokka away from whatever unsettling feeling he had begun to develop. “If these criminals found out who you are, the traitor prince who let his nation down, they'd tear you to shreds.”

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ —How had Sokka failed to realize that until now? Zuko was a traitor in his country—hunted, despised, with undoubtedly a sizable bounty on his head. And outside of his country, he was the son of a genocidal tyrant who brought death and destruction to every civilization that dared to cross his path. Zuko had no allies, except for Sokka and the rest of their small, selective gang. Everyone else on this planet was out for his head. If Sokka had been intrepidly stupid in coming here, Zuko had been _suicidal_.

And yet, Zuko had still chosen to come. Misery and guilt threatened to swallow Sokka whole.

“Why don't you just tell my father and collect your reward?” The fire prince snapped back with stubborn defiance, and Sokka wanted to shout for him to _shut up_ because they needed _time_ to figure their shit out, and the warden didn’t need more incentive to speed things further. 

“Oh, in due time, believe me, I intend to collect.” 

Sokka crept away as the warden delivered his parting taunt, ducking around the corner in time to remain unseen. Alone once more, he deflated against the metal wall, covering his face with his hands in despair.

Great, now they had the Fire Lord himself to worry about.

~~

That evening, Sokka stole a master key and snuck into the room where they had locked Zuko in. Zuko bolted from his bed upon hearing him enter but appeared to relax as Sokka lifted his viser.

“Hey,” Sokka greeted, feeling awkward and stupid, “How are you doing?”

Zuko glared at him with crossed arms, looking displeased in the maroon prison garb he was forced to wear. That was answer enough.

“Do you have an escape plan?” the firebender asked in lieu. 

“I have an idea,” Sokka shrugged, “But I need more time to think it through. And it might be best to go over the plan when Suki is here too.”

A shade of annoyance flashed over Zuko’s features. “Then why are you _here_?”

“I—I wanted to see you,” Sokka admitted, “I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

“Apologize to me later,” Zuko gritted out, “What if someone finds you? Both of our covers would be blown, and then what?”

“Why? Do you think someone will come?” Sokka scowled, a hot surge of anger rushing through him, only to sour with worry and dread as _special prisoner_ and _they'd tear you to shreds_ echoed in his mind on frantic repeat. 

“I don’t know,” Zuko responded darkly, meaningfully, “Which is why you need to _leave_.”

“I—I heard what the warden said,” Sokka admitted, face reddening with shame, “I can’t let them hurt you.”

Sokka expected Zuko to say something along the lines of _what could you possibly do_ because honestly, there was nothing he _could_ do. He was in no position to offer protection to Zuko, or Suki, and blowing his cover now would mean game over for all of them. If someone did come after Zuko, Sokka would have to stand passively by, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength or willpower to endure that.

But instead of berating him for his weakness, Zuko only seemed to soften his tone. “They won’t hurt me.”

“How can you be sure?” Sokka bit into his drying lips.

“Traitor or not, I’m still the prince,” the firebender explained, “My father might want to—deal his own punishment. Out of fear of my father, they won’t let anything happen to me in the time being.”

While that statement offered little consolation, it did give Sokka some much needed time to think his plans through. He approached where Zuko sat in his bed, kneeling before the firebender so they could see eye-to-eye, “I won’t let it come to that, I promise. I’ll figure this out.”

Zuko blinked away from him, scoffing quietly. If it hadn’t been so dark in the room, Sokka wondered if he could catch the firebender’s blush. “You told me that already.”

“I know.” Sokka squeezed his knee. “But your mind works in stupid ways and—I don’t want you to have even a fragment of a doubt.”

~~

Executing the escape plan was like a juggling act with the lives of his friends at stake. There were too many moving parts, too many unforeseen variables, and the entire operation felt precariously off-balance, threatening to collapse spectacularly from even the tiniest misstep. But somehow Sokka had managed it—unwanted participation from other prisoners notwithstanding—only for the possibility of his father’s arrival _the next day_ to slam into him like a punch in the gut. 

This could be his only chance to free Suki, and Spirits know how much more time they have before the Fire Lord sends someone to retrieve Zuko. Sokka simply couldn’t risk their lives for the slim chance that his father might arrive, but neither would his friends leave the prison without him. The three of them decided to stay, as the prisoners who had forced their way into their plan botched the remainder of it, effectively removing this mode of escape from the equation. 

But in the end, the risk they took was worth it, as Sokka watched with bated breath as the gondola emptied of the new war prisoners, finding Hakoda among them at last.

He reunited with his father in his cell. Hakoda, after failing to recognize Sokka initially and nearly knocking him out, pulled his son into a teary embrace. (The prison guard disguises worked so much better than Sokka could have ever hoped for). Afterwards, they wasted little time in updating each other on all that had happened in their time apart.

“The others are being held at a prison near the Fire Nation palace,” his father revealed, “They singled me out as their leader and sent me here. But before I left, I met some young women who said they knew you. The...Oshinama Fighters?”

“You mean the Kyoshi Warriors?” Sokka’s smile widened. “Their leader, Suki, is here too, and she’s going to escape with us.”

“Good,” Hakoda grinned back, “We’ll need all the help we can get.”

“And uh,” Sokka added with a touch of hesitancy, “You know Prince Zuko? He’s here too.”

Hakoda crossed his arms, frown deepening. “The son of the Fire Lord? That sounds like a major problem.”

“No, actually, he’s on our side now,” Sokka insisted, despite his father’s wary look of disapproval, “I know it’s hard to trust him after— _everything_ —but he’s really proven himself since. I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for his help.”

Sokka ignored the rush of heat spreading across his face. It felt of great importance that his father understood him on this, and the way Hakoda nodded seemed to be his way of conveying his trust—not in Zuko, perhaps—but at least, in Sokka.

“So, do you have a plan?” his father then asked.

“We had one, where we planned to use the cooling chamber as a boat,” Sokka admitted, crestfallen, “But some of the other prisoners got involved and ruined it. I don’t know if there's another way off this island.”

His father smiled with reassurance, clasping a hand to Sokka’s shoulder. “Now, there's no prison in the world that can hold two Water Tribe geniuses.”

“Then we'd better find two,” Sokka snorted, before they both broke out in laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unrelated, but someone on tumblr wrote in the tags that zuko is a walking, talking praise kink and i’ve been screaming since (Edit: Credit goes to lildemonsemen. Pure poetry. Wish they didn't hide it in the tags lmao)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback appreciated <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done with my ATLA rewatch, guys! And now I am just overwhelmed with Zuko feels and thinking back on Book 1 Zuko breaks my heart. I also started LOK (which I've never seen before) although I'm beginning to feel like it was a mistake, but whatever!
> 
> Thanks for everyone who has read/commented! Finally moving past the Boiling Rock!
> 
> EDIT: LOK is a fine show on its own. Just enjoy it for what it is. Don't compare it to ATLA or you're setting yourself up for disappointment

Their new plan was to escape on the gondola, in plain sight and with the warden as their hostage so the guards wouldn’t dare to cut the lines. It was ingenious and _insane_ but might just work, and Sokka was overcome with jubilation and pride to have thought of this plan together with his dad. He and Hakoda shared another devious grin before Sokka slipped out of the cell to relay the information to the rest of their team.

A prison riot of their own provocation drew the warden out onto the terrace. They still needed to take the warden hostage somehow, but Sokka struggled to channel his brain in that direction when Zuko was still missing. Where could he be? Sokka delivered the false message to open all prison cells so Zuko should be among the released prisoners—unless he was kept elsewhere once again. Maybe the exchange for the warden’s reward was taking place right now. Sokka needed to find Zuko, wherever he might be—or perhaps, they should capture the warden first and beat a quick answer out of him.

Fortunately, the firebender made his way to their huddled circle, appearing flustered and breathless but otherwise, whole.

“What took you so long?” Sokka demanded, impatience filling the sudden emptiness as tension drained from him.

“Got caught up,” was Zuko’s absent response as he spotted the warden on the terrace. “How are we going to get the warden?”

“Oh right—” Sokka faltered, returning his attention to their issue at hand, “About that—”

“I thought you thought this through,” the firebender groaned.

“I’m working on it!” Sokka protested. _And I might have figured it out sooner if I hadn’t been worried out of my wits because of you,_ he thought with petulance, although those words remained unspoken.

Hakoda nudged Sokka, drawing his attention to the prison riot that Suki was currently traversing with remarkable ease, using the heads of prisoners as stepping stones before jumping acrobatically onto the tower. There, she disarmed the guards stationed, scaling up the wall and flipping onto the terrace.

“Never mind that,” Sokka gasped in utter awe, as he grabbed onto Zuko’s arm to redirect his attention, “Follow Suki!”

By the time they finally reached the terrace using the more conventional measures of stairs, Suki already apprehended the warden, binding together his hands and gagging him with his own headband.

“That’s some girl,” Hakoda commented, and Sokka beamed brilliantly, face flushing with pride.

“Tell me about it!”

A few fireballs were thrown their way, as Zuko shoved Sokka roughly aside before deflecting them. They quickly made their way to the gondola as everyone rushed inside, with the exception of the firebender who stayed behind to set the rails in motion. 

“Come on, come on!” Sokka shouted after him and felt his insides twist with dread when Zuko appeared to hesitate.

The firebender slammed his foot against the metal lever instead, breaking it after a few arduous attempts. The gondola had already gone without him and more guards were rushing onto the platform. Zuko kicked the broken lever into the boiling lake before running to the ledge at full speed, jumping as fireballs narrowly brushed past him.

Sokka felt his soul leap to his throat. Zuko might not make it; the distance was too great for him to traverse. Sokka nearly lunged out of the gondola himself in order to catch Zuko, and the firebender’s momentum certainly would have pulled them both into the boiling lake if Hakoda hadn’t grabbed Sokka by the waist, securing them to the metal compartment.

“What were you _thinking_?” Sokka’s voice rose to a dangerous, uncomfortable octave once they finally helped Zuko into the gondola.

“I’m making it so they can’t stop us,” Zuko responded, as if the stunt he pulled off was completely reasonable and he hadn’t nearly fallen to a boiling death.

“Way to think ahead, I guess—but what the fuck! That was _insane_!” 

“Speaking of insane,” Zuko scowled, glaring out the window, “My sister and her friends are here.”

Indeed, Azula appeared at the edge of the receding platform, staring down their fleeing vessel with cruel, calculating eyes. She must have came to retrieve Zuko on behalf of the Fire Lord, Sokka realized with sinking dread.

“Hey, wait—” he began, but Zuko shook out of his grasp, leaping out of the gondola once more and climbing onto the roof for another showdown with his sister. 

Vestiges of fear still clung to Sokka, but they retreated in the wake of his anger as he thought, with vehemence, of the firebender’s recklessness that could very well have ended in his self-destruction. How dare Zuko make him worry this way? Didn’t he know what he meant to Sokka and what _losing him_ would do?

His father’s hand lowered to his shoulder, jolting him from his mounting fury. “Some guy.”

“Ha!” Sokka choked out a laugh, nervous and high-pitched. His anger, in turn, made way for complete and utter mortification as he pondered why his father would say something like that all of a sudden, as if to suggest— “Ha! He’s such a showoff-y jerk—but good one, dad!”

Hakoda’s raised brow managed to express skepticism, understanding, and fatherly patience all at once, and the look alone was enough to pierce Sokka to the core, leaving him thoroughly exposed and horror-struck. 

But Zuko’s sister was charging at them like a blue-flamed rocket, tailed closely by her acrobat friend who traversed the metal cables as swiftly and effortlessly as if she were on solid ground. The third member was missing from their deadly triad—the one whom Sokka would have loathed to see the most—but he could spare little thought on that matter given the dire situation they’d found themselves in.

“This is a rematch I've been waiting for,” he heard Suki say distantly, no doubt referring to her defeat and capture at the hands of Azula and her cronies months ago. And for once, Sokka was grateful for impending doom as it offered an escape from whatever humiliation that had begun to unfold as Hakoda bared witness.

“Sorry, dad—I gotta go,” he stammered, shimmying away from the weight of his father’s stare before crawling out of the gondola as well. 

Suki repelled Ty Lee, while Zuko and Sokka took on Azula together. Winning mattered little; they only needed more time before they reached the outer cliffs of the volcano, and afterwards—well, Sokka would have to figure something out afterwards. But as luck would have it, the warden struggled out of his bindings then, shouting for the guards to cut the line. 

The guards jammed the mechanism as per orders and the wheels screeched and ground to a halt. The sudden jolt sent Sokka off balance, but Zuko managed to pull him in a fraction before he slid off the roof. 

“They're about to cut the line!” Ty Lee shouted as an inbound gondola paused beside them.

“Then it's time to leave,” Azula smirked, propelling herself onto the other gondola before perching at the edge, as if she would find great pleasure in watching her brother and his friends meet their boiling end. “Goodbye, Zuko.”

“They're cutting the line,” Zuko repeated as he helped Sokka to his feet. “The gondola's about to go.”

But before Sokka could fully process the severity of their predicament, the gondola jostled back into motion, knocking them against one another as they struggled to regain balance.

“What’s going on?” Sokka asked, as Zuko breathed out at the same time, “It’s Mai.”

Sokka watched as a dark-haired young woman, in a dance of blades, incapacitated the guards on the platform before they could sever the cable. She glared after them, her cool mask impenetrable even now, but her actions conveyed the sentiment that her emotions could not. Mai had betrayed her friends and her family to save Zuko. 

Zuko’s expression softened with regret. For breaking Mai’s heart, or for leaving her behind? Perhaps, both—Sokka couldn’t be sure—but something twisted inside of him, ugly and sour, and he despised himself for feeling it. Sokka knew he had no right to experience anything akin to jealousy in the position he was in. But the blatant and visual proof of someone else laying a claim to Zuko’s heart seemed to wrench out the most vile and unreasonable voices from within him.

“Snap out of it, you two!” Suki shouted from behind them as the gondola locked into the landing dock, “We’re almost at the outer cliffs! We’re getting out of here!”

Sokka caught up to Suki once they scaled over the cliffs, only to lose track of Zuko in the process. He searched around in a panic, spotting the firebender a few rocks above, hesitating as he stared in the direction they had just escaped from. Sokka swallowed thickly, fear and longing battling at the forefront of his mind. Zuko couldn’t possibly be thinking of turning back, could he?

“Zuko, what are you doing?” he shouted after the firebender, hiding his desperation beneath urgency. “We can’t stop now!”

“My sister must have gotten here somehow,” Zuko shouted back, pointing to the coves beyond a wall of jagged rocks, where a Fire Nation airship sat vacant. “There! That’s our way out of here!”

~~

With Suki and his father joining them at the Western Air Temple, Sokka found his days much more eventful and fulfilling. No longer was he simply devising ways to preoccupy himself while the benders trained with Aang. Sokka now had strategies to discuss with his father, plans for new inventions to share, and ideas—regardless of how impractical or ridiculous—to bounce off someone who served as both a mentor and an audience to Sokka’s growth. 

And in Suki, he gained companionship and mutual devotion. He fawned over her in the immediate days after their escape and in turn, basked in her endless warmth and affection. They were inseparable, as they should be after distance and circumstance had kept them apart for so long, and Sokka was determined to make up for lost time—planning for dates in nearby towns and showering her frequently with small gifts of his own creation. He wanted to court her properly, in all the ways he had envisioned during those months spent longing in her absence. 

Some nights, they would find themselves tucked away in a hidden, private alcove of the temple with their lips locked and bodies pressed against one another. And when the opportunity felt right, Suki would encourage him to go further, her advances growing increasingly less subtle with each passing day as Sokka quickly realized with mounting anxiety that he simply— _couldn’t_.

And he had an inkling of a suspicion that Zuko had something to do with the reason why. 

Zuko appeared to fade into the background, removing himself from Sokka now that Suki and his father—the two most important people that still had been missing from his life—have returned to him. Perhaps Zuko felt like he was not needed anymore, which was an absurd notion. Just because Sokka might not _need_ him didn’t mean Sokka no longer wished to spend time with him.

Or perhaps, for Zuko, his entire friendship with Sokka was rooted in the basis of debts accumulated from his past mistakes. And after going to such incredible and self-sacrificing lengths to rescue Suki and Hakoda, Zuko now considered his ledgers wiped clean and therefore, no longer felt any obligation to cater to Sokka’s whims.

Sokka hated this part about his relationship with Zuko—the _trying to figure him out by thinking like him_ part, which always left him wallowing in dread and paranoia. It would be so much easier if they simply talked, but there was a reason why they rarely did, and that reason was formidable enough to keep Sokka from wanting to do so even now.

The thought of Zuko wanting more, of either of them wanting more, had crossed Sokka’s mind, but knowing the answer felt like a double-edged sword. There was no situation where both of them would emerge unharmed. Sokka was in no position to offer anything beyond what he had already given, not with a war looming and with Suki— _especially_ with Suki—who had found her way back into his life again.

On the contrary, learning _now_ that Zuko had never desired anything beyond debts repaid might hurt Sokka in more ways than his heart was built to withstand. Thus, it was simpler not to know, to feign ignorance and swan dive into denial.

Spirits, he was a coward. And he was also easy to break. What ultimately broke him was a moment so hilariously mundane that Sokka would have laughed if he hadn’t been so wracked with guilt and misery.

One early morning, he pushed through the doors to the dining area, an arm around Suki as he recalled a joke he had devised earlier in her absence, when he caught sight of the rest of the gang—Katara, Toph, Aang, and Zuko—already seated at the tables. They typically ate breakfast earlier and together, before the start of their training sessions. Katara offered to pour them some fresh lychee juice she had bought from the market, while no one else bothered to extend anything beyond a casual greeting. But something about Zuko struck a nerve, the way he sipped his tea between Aang and Toph, appearing wholly uninterested in Sokka altogether, that compelled him to literally _shove_ Suki away so they would be at least three feet apart if Zuko ever decided to look his direction again.

“Hey, Sokka,” Suki cried out, aggrieved, “What was that for?”

“Are you okay?” Aang asked just as Katara paused in her pouring and looked up as well.

“Yeah, I—uh—” Sokka stammered between a few nervous chuckles, “Something just came over me—I have no idea.”

Toph tilted her head slightly, before commenting, “You feel like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

Zuko looked up from his tea then, brows furrowed with concern. Toph shifted subtly again—sensing Zuko, sensing them both—and Sokka felt panic rising to his throat, adrenaline coursing through him from a primal fear of being thoroughly exposed.

“I—I gotta go,” he blurted out, stumbling back the same way he had entered as puzzled eyes after trailed him.

Sokka found refuge in the courtyard and curled up against one of the marble pillars supporting the temples, folding his knees to his chest and burying his head within his arms. Suki eventually approached him and lowered to sit by his side. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and waited patiently until he was ready to speak first.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, voice thick with misery.

“Is something the matter?” she whispered to him, her warm blue eyes soft with concern.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a mirthless laugh, resolve crumbling in the guidance of her quiet persuasion, “I think we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated xx


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm 4-5 chapters away from the end?? But I was also struck with a Book 2 Zukka idea last night that I'm itching to write (it's the very prevalent Sokka meets teashop!Zuko trope that pretty much every other person has written, but I still want to write my own lmao)...Buuut finishing this fic first would be the smart thing to do so I'm probably going to do stick to that! 
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading/commenting as always! <3
> 
> P.S. LOK still feels weird, but I'm gonna keep watching for the Korrasami endgame

“Sokka.” Zuko frowned, wide-eyed surprise soon fading to muted concern, “Are you okay?”

Sokka wondered if he looked as awful as he felt in that instance for Zuko to ask so bluntly. Or maybe, the firebender was simply confused since the last time Sokka visited his private quarters, they had proceeded to—

“Can I come in?” Sokka asked before he could lose any more of his nerves.

“Uh, sure,” the firebender said with a touch of unease, even as he stepped aside a moment later to allow the other passage. 

They migrated to their usual spots, with the firebender sitting on his bed and Sokka in the chair by his desk. Zuko still looked uncomfortable, but he said nothing as he waited for Sokka to speak first, to reveal whatever unfortunate truths that drove him to the firebender’s room at such an odd hour of the night. 

“I-I’m not here for— _that_ ,” Sokka grimaced as he stumbled over his words, “I don’t think I can—with you—now that Suki is here.”

He felt like he needed to get that out of the way, given how late it was at night. This wasn’t news. They haven’t done anything since returning from the Boiling Rock, so Sokka’s intentions had been clear even if he had failed to put words to them until now.

“Okay,” Zuko said simply. 

“I still want to talk to you though.”

“About what?”

“About anything, really,” Sokka insisted, “Well, right now, about Suki.”

Zuko averted his eyes with deep and obvious discomfort. Sokka hastened and continued before the firebender could vocalize his objections. 

“I don’t think I can be with her right now either.” Sokka admitted, which was astonishing enough for golden eyes to flicker back to his. “Suki and I—we talked earlier today. I think I need to wait until after the war to figure these things out. There’s just—too much going on right now.”

His conversation with Suki had been wearying and difficult, but Suki answered with unmatched kindness, comforting Sokka even though he had obviously caused her pain. Sokka was perfectly aware that instead of resolving his issues, he simply bargained for more time. He felt like he had made the objectively right decision, however. The war followed a finite timeline, and none of them could afford distractions, especially now as they were nearing the end. His personal issues weren’t going to magically disappear, but rationally speaking, any problem ought to be easier to resolve without a _war_ looming on the horizon. 

“That’s understandable,” was Zuko’s eventual response—two simple words filtered through after a meaningful amount of consideration. 

Sokka let out a dejected sigh. “I used to know what I wanted—or at least, I thought I knew. I had always imagined asking Suki to marry me after the war.”

That was not the conclusion he had intended. Sokka had more to say after that, but Zuko spoke before he could finish, and his quiet, unexpected response effectively halted Sokka’s deliberations then and there.

“I think you should.”

Sokka blinked at him, flummoxed. “You do? Why?”

“She—uh, seems nice and pretty,” Zuko managed, although those words appeared to embarrass him immensely, “And you two seem...good for each other.”

Sokka frowned at the firebender. While Zuko provided him with an answer, he had also interpreted the question in the most superficial way. Something wasn’t quite right. Zuko rarely lied, but he often hid the truth, ones that were painful or inconvenient that he believed would cause more harm than good. Zuko’s mind was a puzzle, but Sokka knew how he might be able to solve it. He just needed to ask the right questions.

Sokka put his brain to work and recalled their conversation up until now, searching for anomalies and missing pieces, before finally asking, “What do you want to do after the war?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko responded, appearing bemused by the sudden change in topic.

“There has to be something,” Sokka smiled, trying to put the firebender at ease. “Even something stupid like—I don’t know—eating seaweed noodles. Katara can make them almost as good as Gran Gran if she had the right ingredients. Spirits, I miss Water Tribe food. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried them. Sometimes, thinking about what our lives will be like after the war is the only thing that gives me hope.”

Zuko fell quiet and still. Sokka must have struck a nerve.

“Do you ever think about what it’ll be like after the war?” 

“No,” was the quiet, but emphatic answer.

“Why not?” Sokka asked softly, proceeding with care but only to be met with silence again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t think—” Zuko began, and he looked pained to be saying those words aloud, “—there will be an after the war. For me.”

“What?” Sokka asked, or at least, he assumed he had asked over the sudden roaring in his head that seemed to drown out all of his senses.

“I—I’ve had dreams about being stricken down by lightning,” the firebender admitted, “Sometimes by my father. Sometimes by my sister. I never survive the war.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?”

“They’re just dreams.”

“But you believe them.”

“It feels like—a fitting end.” 

“How can you say that?” Sokka demanded, as every fractionated thought and wordless emotion seemed to take a tumble in his mind, only to be pulled together haphazardly with fury, panic, and unanswerable fear. “Do you think, in some twisted way, that you deserve to die?”

“I—no—but my destiny is to help the Avatar bring balance to the world,” the firebender insisted, “And to return honor to not just myself but also my country. My great grandfather started this war, and if redemption begins with the end of my bloodline, then so be it.”

“Shut up about that!” Distantly, Sokka was aware that he had risen to his feet. Distantly, he knew that he had begun shouting. Everything about Zuko—from his calmness to his distorted logic—was suddenly and unbearably infuriating. “I can’t stand it half the time when you go off like that, with your pious bullshit about destiny and honor and redemption.”

Zuko appeared caught out by his abrupt rage, before his own temper twisted into his features. His voice dropped an octave, low like a warning. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And neither do you!”

“I’m not saying I _want_ to die.”

“Just that you don’t seem to care much if you did,” Sokka laughed derisively, “You sound so selfish.”

“ _Selfish_?” Zuko widened his eyes, his relative calm shattered by the absolute _unfairness_ of Sokka’s accusation. “How am I being selfish?”

“Do you ever think about the people who might care if you _actually_ died?” And what Sokka had meant to say was _it’s me, I care! I care so much, and it terrifies me!_

“I’m willing to die if it means winning the war,” the firebender snapped back with vehemence, “If it means doing _something_ for my country that could fall on the right side of history. People are going to die in a war, Sokka. That could mean me, or you, or any of us. You of all people should realize that.”

Was that an ill-timed reference to the attack on his tribe, the loss of his mother? It was cruel to imply that Sokka was being ignorant, naive, or even stupid after having suffered so profoundly at the hands of the nation that Zuko was adamant on redeeming. Zuko made valid points about war and loss, but he was also wrong somehow, and Sokka—fueled by hurt and unanswerable rage—was determined to destroy his fallacies.

“You actually think you’re being noble?” Sokka spat out, with every intention of tearing into their preexisting wounds, “Dying is not the only way to redeem yourself, but it’s sure as hell quick, isn’t it? Fuck you and your sorry excuse for honor. You have a lifetime ahead of you to figure out your shit, but you’d rather go into the war thinking you’re going to die—preparing to, even. ”

“Maybe that’s how you _should_ be thinking,” Zuko glowered, the words spilling from him were just as reckless as fury shook his core. “The time you have now is all you’re guaranteed, but you’re too busy with your pointless, foolish daydreams to realize that. Go eat your fucking seaweed noodles if that’s so important. And instead of waiting to marry your girlfriend, you should just take her up that stupid tree and—”

Zuko never finished that sentence because Sokka actually punched him in the face.

~~

By the time Sokka knocked on Katara’s door, it was even less of an acceptable hour of the night. She greeted him, blinking blearily while muffling a yawn. “Sokka, what’s the matter? Why are you here?”

“I punched Zuko in the face,” Sokka confessed, “Can you go see if he’s alright?”

“You— _what_?” Katara winced, still struggling to grasp the meaning of his words through her sleep-clouded mind, “ _Why_?”

“I—I’ll tell you later,” Sokka insisted, swallowing the dangerous quivers in his voice, “Can you please check up on him first?”

Katara heaved a weary sigh, but she argued no further as she allowed him access to her room and departed in the direction of Zuko’s. Inside, Sokka planted himself into her bed, finding a small modicum of comfort in her familiar scent and lingering warmth. Then, he curled in on himself and struggled to keep his sorrow from breaking him. 

The force of his strike had knocked the firebender back onto his bed, and the look on his face—wide-eyed shock followed by gradual, pained realization that his friend had struck him—was permanently burned into Sokka’s brain. It had taken only a span of a few heartbeats for his anger to flare, to subside, and for remorse to flood in its place. Sokka had rushed to apologize, only to be stunned still by the heartache of Zuko pulling violently away from his touch, angry and mistrustful like a wounded animal. 

“Get out,” the firebender demanded.

“No, please Zuko, I—”

“I said _get out_!”

With fear and shame roiling in his gut, Sokka reluctantly agreed to leave him be.

The war frightened Zuko, as it did with all of them. He had nightmares about dying at the hands of his father and sister—a lonely secret he had kept to himself before finally trusting Sokka with it. And instead of offering comfort, Sokka lost control of his own frustration, shouting hurtful things at Zuko and then, striking him when he couldn’t weather the hurtful things that Zuko shouted back. 

Sokka couldn’t bear to be alone with his guilt right now; he needed to talk to Katara.

Nearly half an hour passed before Katara returned. Sokka lifted himself from her bed to ask, “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine,” his sister grumbled as she sank into the space next to him, “Just a bruise. Mostly healed.”

“You were gone for a long time,” Sokka pointed out. 

“He wouldn’t let me in,” Katara sighed, “Not until I asked him to do this for me, because I knew you wouldn’t leave me alone otherwise. And I also promised that I wasn’t there to vouch for you, and neither of us would have to say a thing while I healed him.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Sokka groaned, burying his face in her pillow again. 

“Wouldn’t hurt to tell him that,” she suggested, before finally giving in to both her concern and curiosity, and asked, “Do I even want to know what happened?”

“We got into an argument,” Sokka admitted, “He was saying so much stupid things about honor and destiny that I just couldn’t take it. I made it personal, and then he made it _really_ personal.”

Sokka chose to omit certain details, especially those about Zuko's dreams of dying. The firebender had spoken to him in confidence, and Sokka had already injured him once when he allowed thoughtless rage to claim his judgement.

“What made you punch him?” Katara asked.

“He said something about Suki.” Or at least, that was what their argument had culminated to.

“He did?” Sokka could hear the frown in her voice, her protective instincts projecting through the darkness around them.

“Nothing terrible, about her at least,” Sokka said in truth. “It was more of an attack on me.”

Enough time had passed to allow some tentative introspection, and Sokka was beginning to understand why Zuko’s last statement had provoked such helpless rage from him. It was less so the actual words than the insinuations behind them, which implied that what he had done with Zuko was meaningless and debased—something Sokka would never do with a girl he’d like to marry, something Zuko would never agree to if it weren’t for the very real possibility of _dying_ in the near future.

And in that moment, it had felt easier to punch Zuko than to ponder whether he had a point.

“I was just so _angry_ ,” Sokka continued miserably, “But it wasn’t entirely because of him. I took it out on him, though. I shouldn’t have hit him no matter what he said. Do you think he’d ever forgive me?”

“If you’ve forgiven him for hunting us down and nearly killing us on multiple occasions,” Katara reasoned, “Then yes, he can forgive you for this.”

Sokka laughed, even though it sounded pained and watery. “I’m not going to hold that over him forever.”

“I know,” his sister conceded with a touch of amusement, “But I think you can for a little while longer. Give yourself until after the war.”

 _After the war._ Right, this had all started because of their talk about after the war. 

“I-I’m scared of the war, Katara,” Sokka confessed, “I’m scared of losing you, or dad, or any more people we care about.” And Zuko too, whom he had grown to care for more than he was willing to admit, in ways beyond what his mind could put into words.

“I know,” Katara sighed, “I’m scared too.”

“Zuko said any of us could die, and he’s right. I hated that he brought it up, but he’s right.”

His breath hitched near the end as hot tears scorched behind shuttered eyelids. He buried himself deeper into the pillow, hiding his burning face. He felt Katara shift beside him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she wrapped an arm across his back.

“We’ve come along this far,” she whispered her soft reassurances, “And I see us getting through it together.”

He shook his head, tears falling in earnest as he finally gave in to the anguish clawing at his insides. The names and faces of his loved ones glowed like candle flames, fragile and ephemeral, in the dark caverns of his mind. And just the mere _thought_ of losing any one of them evoked more pain and misery than he knew how to bear.

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“No,” Katara admitted as she tightened her embrace, her unyielding warmth the only thing holding him together, “But that shouldn’t stop us from hoping.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I haven't /exactly/ missed the angst train by writing in Sokka's POV.. Lol sorry!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support after the last chapter, and to everyone who has read/commented along the way!! Note, this chapter was largely inspired by Final Fantasy X and Sweet Home Alabama lmao enjoy ~ ~
> 
> Compulsive LOK update: I really want to enjoy LOK, I do. I absolutely adore Korra. But just as I was finally getting over my beef with Republic City being a lazy imitation of New York, the show throws 36yo Iroh II at me, speaking in teenage Zuko’s voice, and I just

Early next morning, Sokka borrowed Appa for a trip to a nearby town, reaching the docks just as the merchants opened their shops and filled their stalls with wares. Sleep had evaded him for the remainder of the night as he contemplated endlessly over his argument with Zuko. But even as ink-black darkness receded with the first rays of dawn, his measured words alone felt like an inadequate apology. Sokka doubted a solution to his troubles could be purchased at the market, but he was not adverse to seeking inspiration through less likely means. He roamed the docks without aim, eventually finding himself before the narrow bench of a traveling jewel merchant.

“Petrified lightning?” he halted to ask, curiosity piqued, “What’s that?”

The jewel merchant, an ancient man whose white hair drifted like smoke in the gentle sea breeze, smiled at Sokka to reveal a shining, silver tooth. “Petrified lightning, young man, is glass fused from sand and minerals when lightning strikes the earth.”

Sokka leaned closer to get a better look at the dark, unrefined crystals.

“I’ve seen lightning glass before,” he noted, “but never ones that are completely black.” In fact, the ones he had found in the past had been amalgamations of whatever rocks and soil the lightning happened to strike, rich in beige and other earthy tones and often appearing quite plain. 

“You are correct,” the old man admitted, “But these are not any petrified lightning. They originated from Lightning Pass, whose grounds are made entirely of obsidian and black sand.”

“Lightning Pass?” Sokka repeated, the seeds of an idea taking root in his mind. “Where is that?”

“Not far from here at all,” the jewel merchant replied, “Maybe two day’s travel on ostrich horse. In fact, it is the fastest way to Jinshan, but be careful if you do go. It’s storm season, and Lightning Pass earned its name for good reasons.”

“So there’s a chance you’ll get struck by lightning there?”

“Most certainly in the past,” the old man nodded, “But pillars of metal and stone have been built throughout the passage in recent years. They will draw away most of the lightning, but you can never be too careful.”

Sokka grinned as the pieces of a plan fell together in his mind, seamless and perfect. Maybe this trip wasn’t a waste of time after all. 

“Thanks, that’s all I wanted to know.” Sokka bowed, bidding his farewell. He hesitated to leave, realizing he had taken up the merchant’s time and accepted his generous help without buying anything in the end. 

“Maybe you can tell people the pendants are for protection,” Sokka offered instead, “because lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice.”

The old man pondered as he stroked his beard. “That, my friend, is a wonderful idea.”

~~

Seeing no benefit in dilly-dallying around, Sokka approached Zuko after nightfall, finding the firebender in the stable as it was his turn to put out straw for Appa. Words came easier to Sokka at night, without the chaos of daytime to distract him from thoughts he found difficult to describe, or sentiment that extended beyond what his language could accomplish. This was why he often approached Zuko at night, not because he would only spare night time for him. He hoped Zuko realized that.

“Hey,” Sokka said meekly and without preamble, “Look—I’m sorry for punching you last night.”

He wanted to get those words out at least, in case Zuko gave him an urgent reason to retreat. But his concerns appeared unfounded as the firebender sighed, his temper having also subsided during the interim of the day.

“It’s fine,” Zuko replied as he continued to untangle the ropes binding the straw, “I probably deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t.” Sokka closed the distance between them, infringing on Zuko’s space and forcing the firebender to acknowledge him. “I shouldn’t have hit you no matter what had happened, so don’t say that.”

Spirits, Zuko could be so frustrating, even when he was trying to be accommodating. But this time, instead of allowing his frustration to rule him, Sokka pushed past his turbulent emotions and focused his energy solely on Zuko. The firebender tensed at their sudden close proximity, but at least, his eyes were meeting Sokka's now. 

“Well, I’m sorry for saying what I said,” Zuko softly amended.

“I’m sorry too—for what I said,” Sokka admitted as well, “And I didn’t come over last night to yell at you.”

“I know.”

“Can we try again?”

Zuko furrowed his brows—pinched and perplexed—one of his more telling expressions that Sokka had begun to find hopelessly sweet. “Try what again?”

“I thought a lot about the things you told me—before we both started yelling, that is,” Sokka explained, “There were things I wish I said instead. I guess I kind of want to say them now.”

“Um, okay,” Zuko agreed despite his unease. The way the firebender withdrew from him would have discouraged Sokka if he hadn’t been so damn proud of his plan. Even if Zuko decided against going through with it, the idea itself was brilliant enough to count for _something_.

“In your dreams, about your father and sister, were you not able to redirect the lightning?”

“I guess not.”

“But you _can_ in real life, right?”

“Well, I did once,” Zuko shrugged, frowning at the vicinity of Sokka’s collarbone. “It might have been luck, I don’t know.”

“Would you feel better if you had more practice?”

“I wanted to practice with real lightning when Uncle first taught me,” the firebender admitted, “But he said it was too dangerous and refused. No one is going to shoot lightning at me—other than my father or sister. But I wouldn’t call it practice at that point.”

“What if I told you I figured out a way for us to find our own lightning,” Sokka explained, reveling in the way the firebender’s expression opened, lips parting with muted surprise. 

“How?” he asked.

“I found out about a place known for lightning strikes. They built towers to attract lightning in order to keep travelers safe. I figured we could go during the next storm.” 

Sokka hastened in his elaboration. He had so much to get through before he would allow Zuko to make his decision, and he didn’t want the firebender to lose sight of the considerable risk involved in what Sokka conceded was an _exceptionally_ ill-advised plan.

“I’m not pushing for this or anything,” he rattled on, “Because your uncle’s right. It _is_ too dangerous, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. But I just thought, if you felt more prepared, maybe the nightmares wouldn’t—”

“Okay,” came the quiet affirmation that halted Sokka in his ramblings. He snapped his jaw shut, searching the unwavering gold for any lingering doubts and finding none. Sokka licked at his drying lips, feeling a rush of something thrilling, not unlike the first time Zuko had allowed their bodies to be close. 

“Yeah?” He asked, giving the firebender another chance to reconsider, to opt out of their terrible plan.

“Yeah,” Zuko repeated, voice low and thrumming with something akin to fire—willful and unstoppable like the element in his core. “I’m in.”

~~

A storm was brewing. Sokka could see the signs in the clouds and sense the static in the air. He and Zuko borrowed Appa despite Aang’s concerns, promising the airbender they would land and seek refuge at the first sign of thunder or rain. The opening of Lightning Pass emerged in the distance just as the first drops of warm, summer rain splashed against their faces. They found a cave for Appa and prepared a camp to return to, before crossing the rest of the distance on foot. 

They arrived at the pass before dusk, although the towering clouds casted shadows so dark that they might as well have journeyed at night—the little difference daylight made. Rain beared down on them with full force, the drops large and heavy like copper coins. Zuko walked a few steps ahead, barely visible through the relentless torrent. Sokka followed in tow as they trudged towards the closest lightning tower and watched with bated breath as the firebender scaled up the stone and metal monstrosity. 

The first bolt of lightning struck a tower a few miles into the distance, the deafening crack jolted Sokka from his rooted spot. The dread that had pooled in his stomach churned violently as bitter bile splashed against the back of his throat.

“Be careful!” he shouted after Zuko, feeling like an absolute idiot. Their decision to come here was the embodiment of reckless, single-minded abandon, and Sokka’s useless words of concern _now_ sounded like such farcical nonsense that the Spirits might as well smite both of them on the spot. 

Ironic—remarked his stupid, treacherous, _useless_ brain—that the notion of Zuko dying at the hands of his father or sister had put Sokka through so much turmoil that he _himself_ devised a plan where Zuko could very likely die in a stunningly similar manner, except much _sooner_.

Regret served little purpose now, as Sokka watched and waited and _prayed_ while the wind whipped the rain backwards and sideways, drenching him to the bone. Zuko had reached the top of the tower now—fists-clenched and battle ready—as if he had some ridiculous point to prove to the universe. 

A deafening crack of lightning split the sky in two, so close and devastatingly bright that Sokka stumbled backwards out of sheer, blinding shock. With horror seizing his throat and visions of death flashing before his eyes, Sokka wondered if he had actually _killed_ Zuko just now and desperately pleaded to the Spirits for the contrary. The lightning did not subside however, dwelling atop the tower and shining like a beacon against the obsidian sky. Three stuttered heartbeats later, Sokka realized that it was _Zuko_ , grasping the lightning as it coursed through his body, before pointing back at the sky and releasing—with a shout ripping through his chest—a blinding bolt that split the sky again in reverse.

“Holy shit,” Sokka gasped as relief flooded through him, liquifying his bones. He scrambled to his feet, struggling to keep his knees from buckling beneath him. 

“Holy shit! You did it, Zuko!” This time he shouted aloud, watching the firebender sag his shoulders as he stared up at the sky before turning his attention to Sokka, who continued to holler jubilated nonsense from the ground beneath. “Spirits, you should have seen yourself! That was fucking amazing! Okay, now get down from there before you _actually_ get killed!”

Only after Zuko had safely scaled down from the tower did Sokka finally allow himself to _breathe_. The firebender looked a little shaken and wobbly but otherwise, he was intact— _perfect_. And Sokka ran to him as quickly as the dark, wet sands beneath him would allow, wrapping his arms around the firebender in a bear hug and nearly lifting him in his excitement. 

“Fuck, you did it!” He laughed into the wet mop of hair against his cheek. “I knew you could, but still! The Fire Lord has nothing on you now!”

He pulled away, grinning even if Zuko failed to return his smile, appearing stunned and just a touch embarrassed from Sokka’s endless praise. Sokka wanted to kiss him so badly, to taste triumph and lightning on his tongue. And he would have if Zuko hadn’t rolled back his eyes, passing out from exhaustion that very moment.

~~

By the time Zuko finally showed some semblance of awareness, Sokka had pulled out his own sleeping bag, readying to retreat for the night inside the cave where they had set up camp prior. 

“Oh great, _now_ you wake up.” He made an exaggerated gesture of throwing up his hands, but his feigned annoyance could not conceal how elated he truly felt, “Do you know how hard it was to start a fire when everything’s wet?”

“What happened,” Zuko asked, rubbing the heel of his palm against his scarred eye. 

“Well, you passed out, and I got us the hell out of there.”

The night was warm enough despite the storm, and all they really needed was a thin blanket to sleep through the night. Sokka had stripped them both down to their underwear so he could hang their clothes to dry. And if he had blushed profusely throughout and staved off his boner with thoughts of poor Gran Gran—well, no one had to know about it.

Zuko fell back into the nest of blankets that Sokka had made for him and frowned at the jagged ceiling above them. Shamelessly pushing his luck, Sokka nudged his own sleeping bag closer to the firebender until they were lying barely a foot apart. 

He had expected Zuko to object at some point, but the firebender never did, even as Sokka flopped onto his stomach beside him, and asked, “So, what was it like?”

“It was—” Zuko worked his jaw, struggling for the right words, “—more power than anything I imagined, more than my father and sister combined. At one point, I was afraid I would be torn apart from the inside.”

“Oh,” Sokka swallowed, stomach clenching from lingering nausea, “Well, we’re never doing that again, by the way.” 

Zuko’s laugh was a soft, delighted peal—unintentional and impossibly rare. “But at the same time, I also felt relieved,” he continued, “The storm reminded me that there are greater forces out there that are more powerful than my father. He is not invincible, and there is hope in defeating him. Thank you, Sokka, for bringing me here.”

He looked towards Sokka then, with a barely-there turn of his lips that somehow looked so genuine and sweet that Sokka wanted to cover it with his own, to claim that smile irrevocably for himself. Flabbergasted, what he did instead was shove a trinket in Zuko’s face, something he had been hiding in his palm since the beginning of their conversation. 

“I made something for you,” he blurted out.

“Why?” Zuko blinked at the small offering, brows disappearing beneath his fringe. “What is it?”

“It’s petrified lightning from when lightning strikes the sand. I found a piece while you were passed out. And, well—I’ve seen them turned into jewelry,” Sokka admitted all in one breath. The crystal was a near tear-drop shape about the size of a Pai Sho tile. He had reshaped the glass over fire using his knives as makeshift tools and tied a fishing line around it, so that the string formed a silvery cage around the pendant. There was no way he could match the type of luxury the prince of the Fire Nation was undoubtedly accustomed to, but Sokka worked with what he had.

“It’s—uh—meant to be good luck,” he added, “Because lightning wouldn’t strike the same place twice.”

“Did you make that last part up?” Zuko asked.

“No—yes, sort of—but I have a feeling that this would catch on,” Sokka fumbled, his face so hot that he risked combustion. “Would you wear it?

“Uh, okay.” Zuko accepted the pendant, face flushing as well, but beneath his embarrassment, he also appeared a touch pleased. “Thanks, I guess.”

He looped the string over his head, shaking his hair out a bit once the crystal fell to the middle of his sternum. It hung low enough to be hidden beneath his clothing—another beguiling secret they would soon share.

Sokka felt his throat tighten, mesmerized by the stark contrast of the obsidian crystal against pale, perfect skin that he yearned to touch. If only he could.

“I—I need one more thing from you,” he said instead and heard his voice waver from an emotion he couldn’t quite interpret, but it terrorized him all the same.

“What is it?” Zuko asked.

“Promise me that even if you do get struck by lightning, you will hang on and fight. You can’t just give in because you think this is fate or destiny or whatever. You have to fight with everything you have left and come out of there alive.” _To me. Come back to me._

“Okay,” Zuko—never one to deny Sokka _anything_ —quietly agreed.

By now, the pin-prick pain inside the walls of his heart was too familiar for Sokka to ignore. Guilt and longing had shadowed him constantly, even if Sokka often pushed them aside from the forefront of his thoughts. A shift, an _imbalance,_ had occurred, and there was no denying that anymore. Sokka still couldn’t quite figure out exactly when or how it had happened, but Zuko trusted him, even though Sokka—helplessly aware of his own deficiencies and tormented by his past mistakes—found this trust undeserved. 

Watching the firebender now was like staring down the endless abyss of a cliff. The situation had gone beyond his control, and he felt utterly powerless the way his body was to the immutable pull of gravity. Sokka simply knew, in that moment, that he was _done for_. After the awe and elation and _need_ for Zuko by his side—and in his heart—how could he possibly bear to lose him now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka is such a dumbass, I feel the need to apologize lmao. But at least he’s soft in this one. Thanks for reading and love to hear back! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the words of Aunt Wu: Your future is full of struggle and anguish. Most of it, self-inflicted
> 
> We’re nearing the beginning of the end, baby!!! I’m aiming for 13 chapters and an epilogue. I can’t believe I’m about to power through a 30K+ fic in just over a month (that’s like unheard of with my track record). Thanks to everyone who has been following the story! Your feedback has me thriving hahaaa

Whatever emotional intimacy that had transpired between him and Zuko appeared short-lived upon their return to the Western Air Temple. Perhaps, this was the reality check that Sokka needed to adjust his expectations accordingly, now that Zuko became avoidant again in the company of their friends. Suki treated Sokka kindly still, but her disappointment in their temporary breakup was evident for all to see. Katara was growing more suspicious of him with each passing day, and Toph—well, Toph didn’t seem to care, really—but Sokka had a feeling that she knew more than she let on. Aang, meanwhile, had more than enough on his plate to remain thankfully oblivious to Sokka’s tumultuous love life. Sozin’s comet would be here in less than a week, and the airbender was understandably terrified at the prospect of facing the Fire Lord. He still had much to learn before he was ready; all three of his mentors seemed to agree on that.

Soon enough, the temple no longer served as their safe haven. They narrowly escaped a Fire Nation raid, and afterwards, Aang went missing—body and soul—because of what the rest of the gang could only presume to be a spiritual Avatar journey. Their futile search for the airbender led them to the outskirts of Ba Sing Se, where they managed to find unexpected allies, including many of their past mentors—Pakku, Jeong Jeong, Bumi, and Piandao. The Order of the White Lotus, they called themselves.

There, Zuko reunited with his uncle. Sokka was prepared and more than willing to vouch for the firebender’s sacrifice since joining the Avatar, but there was no need for him to intervene in the end. General Iroh forgave his nephew easily, and Sokka was glad that Zuko had someone like Uncle in his life, whose love for him was unconditional and irrevocable. 

They still had plenty left to do, with the comet only a few days away. All of their destinies were evident according to Zuko’s uncle, and Sokka was beginning to see where Zuko might have gotten his Zuko-ness from. Or perhaps, all the Fire Nation royals talked that way—he wouldn’t know—but destiny, while Sokka didn’t personally believe in, did give them something to work with. 

The war would only end peacefully if the Avatar was the one to defeat the Fire Lord. That was the general consensus, even if Aang remained missing from his spiritual journey, and they had no real guarantee that he’d actually show up on time. Faith, alone, would have to be enough for now.

Zuko would take on Azula at the Fire Nation capital. That had been the obvious strategy as well. The two siblings were set on a fateful collision course since the beginning of their tales, but what did surprise Sokka was that Zuko had asked Katara—and her alone—for help in defeating his sister. The two of them would travel together to the Fire Nation capital and face whatever might await for them there.

The Order of the White Lotus planned to recapture Ba Sing Se and set up strongholds in the Earth Kingdom. And the ones that were left—Toph, Suki, Sokka, and his father—must figure out some way to stop the airship fleet from scorching the Earth Kingdom to the ground.

The airship base was on a small island just off the Earth Kingdom shore. They should be able to intercept the fleet within a day’s journey, and Master Piandao’s giant eel hound would help them traverse the distance.

Sokka and Hakoda had made blueprints of their stolen Fire Nation airship before abandoning it during the Western Air Temple raid. Outnumbered and outgunned as they typically were, Sokka worked closely with his father in strategizing the optimal way to utilize their resources on hand.

“The vent system would be our best bet to break into the main control room unnoticed,” Hakoda reasoned, “There, we can impersonate the captain and order the entire crew to the bomb bay, and—”

“Dad,” Sokka interjected, steeling himself as he spoke his next words with great difficulty, “I think you should stay here, in Ba Sing Se.”

“What?” Hakoda widened his eyes as Sokka fought the instinctual urge to shy away from his father’s disapproval.

“I know you haven’t been the same since your injury during the Solstice invasion. And it might be best if you didn’t go.”

Resistance and anger flashed in his father’s eyes, even as tension drained from him a moment later. “You may be right, Sokka,” his father conceded, shoulders sagging in defeat, “But there is no way I will allow children— _my children_ —to go fight in a war while I do nothing.”

“You won’t be doing nothing,” Sokka insisted, “You’re the best strategist there is—the only one we have left. If Aang fails to stop the Fire Lord, Ba Sing Se would be our stronghold. And you’ll be here to organize the people we have left.”

Sokka needed every ounce of willpower he could muster just to hold Hakoda’s unwavering gaze. The silence amplified between them, during which Sokka barely breathed enough to remain conscious. Never before had he so blatantly and directly contradicted his father’s wishes, but in his mind and heart, he believed that this was the right decision for them all.

“I wouldn’t say that I’m the only strategist left, or the best,” Hakoda finally spoke, his firm expression softening as he pulled his son into a hug. “You have grown so much, Sokka, and I’m so proud of you.”

Sokka buried himself in his father’s embrace, tears of relief and gratitude welling in his eyes. “I am who I am because of you. Thank you, dad.”

~~

“Hey, Zuko,” Sokka hissed at the firebender as the group dispersed from the campfire. They had shared their last dinner before the war, and the rest of the gang were retreating to their respective tents to salvage whatever sleep their over-anxious minds would allow. “Don’t leave just yet.”

“What is it?” Zuko asked as Sokka sidled up against him, grinning devilishly as he revealed a bottle of plum wine in his satchel. The firebender frowned. “Where’d you get that?”

“Does it matter?” Sokka snorted, leaning close to whisper into Zuko’s ear just so he could make the firebender blush. “Come on, last night before the final showdown. Let’s split this—you and me.”

They settled atop the outermost wall of Ba Sing Se, their legs dangling off the edge as they stared at the distant mountains and endless plains of the vast Earth Kingdom. Sokka popped open the bottle and took a swig before handing it to Zuko. They passed the bottle back and forth; the liquor was fragrant and _way_ too sweet, leaving Sokka light-headed even before the heat of alcohol rushed through his veins. He doubted Zuko fared any better—being the lightweights they were—but finishing that bottle had took on symbolic meaning for Sokka, as a right of passage or a bond of brotherhood, or something to that effect.

“I don’t think I can finish it,” Zuko lamented, looking a bit green as he rejected the bottle from Sokka.

“Uh, me neither,” Sokka agreed, stomach lurching at the thought of the remaining amber liquid. He sighed, raising the bottle to the moon in a solemn salute before dumping the rest over the edge of the wall.

“I thought you’d be angry with me,” Zuko murmured into the distance, chin resting against a raised knee.

“For not finishing the bottle?” Sokka grimaced.

“No, for asking Katara to come with me to the capital.”

“Oh,” Sokka hesitated, before admitting, “Why would I be angry with you? You couldn’t have chosen a better fighter. But I am worried, though.”

“I’ll look after your sister,” the firebender promised him, “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Sokka laughed, propping his arms behind himself as he leaned back for a wider view of the star-lit sky. “I’m also worried about you. _Especially_ you,” he said with a twinge of sadness, words escaping him easily as his inhibition dulled. “Sometimes, I have no idea how you’re even _alive_.”

Zuko’s laugh was a soft, melodic thrum, carried away too soon by the wind. “Uncle always says I’m too reckless, that I never think things through.”

“No kidding,” Sokka scoffed.

“I never—” Zuko began, face flushed and eyes heavy-lidded as he mulled over his words, “I never thanked you—any of you—for saving my life.”

“Which time?” Sokka asked at the end of a yawn.

“At the North Pole.”

“It wasn’t my idea, if I’m being honest. But I’m glad we did.”

It was strange to think that only two seasons ago, they had journeyed to the North Pole to find a waterbending master for Katara and Aang. Only two seasons ago, Yue gave her life to the moon spirit, and Sokka had felt heartbreak for the first time since losing his mother. And Zuko had been there too—angry and unhinged—so desperate to prove himself in the eyes of his cruel father that he nearly froze to death in the middle of a blizzard.

Aang’s compassion saved him in the end. Sokka would have left Zuko behind, and then—he would have never _known_.

“That jerk hellbent on capturing the Avatar,” Sokka mused, “When I think back on him, I don’t even think of _you_ anymore.”

“Well, it was me,” was the firebender’s unyielding response, “It will always be me.”

“I know,” Sokka conceded, “But that’s not all that you are. At least, not anymore. You’re everything you are now, and everything you will be after—after the war.”

“I’ve started to think about after the war,” Zuko said in a whisper so faint that Sokka nearly missed it. A moment passed before his alcohol-addled mind finally processed the significance of those words, sending his heart thrashing like a caged bird. 

“Have you?” He turned to the firebender, chest tightening with wild hope. “What do you want to do then?”

“I still don’t know,” Zuko admitted.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”

“Both? Neither,” the firebender sighed, eyes growing heavier until they finally fluttered closed. “Maybe I’m just not very imaginative.” Or maybe, he was still afraid.

“Open to suggestions?” Sokka offered and heard the firebender hum a soft affirmation. 

“You can come back to the Southern Water Tribe with Katara and me, even for a little while,” Sokka proposed, “Gran Gran can cook the best dishes there are in the South Pole—seaweed noodles, arctic hen, puffin-seal sausages—you name it! We can go sailing and hunt for sea prunes to go into the stew. And if we’re lucky, we might even catch a giant cod eel. I know all the best paths and tunnels for penguin sledding. You might think you’re too old for that, but you should try it at least once—”

Sokka talked on and on about everything his small Southern village had to offer, and being able to share those experiences with Zuko one day felt of sudden and great importance. He talked until his voice grew raspy, until the firebender teetered on the brink of sleep beside him, head lowering to rest heavily against Sokka’s left shoulder. Sokka listened to Zuko’s steady breathing, comforting and familiar like the push and pull of the ocean. He fell silent in favor of counting the seconds that passed between them—what remaining time they had together before they all would leap blindly into the fire.

Sokka eventually stumbled back to their camp while carrying a passed out Zuko on his back. He grunted as he leaned against a tree trunk for support. The distance he had traversed for both of them was more than significant, and Zuko wasn’t exactly light either. Once inside the firebender’s tent, Sokka laid Zuko down onto his cot, pulled off his shoes, and covered him with a thin blanket. Zuko made a small, content sound as he sunk into his pillow, but otherwise, he remained unguarded and unaware, lips parted and cheeks rosy from the wine.

To steal a kiss now would be cowardly, Sokka contended, just as he noticed a glimmer of silver peeking beneath the firebender’s collar. He curled a finger below the fabric, pulling out the fishing line that suspended the lightning crystal he had gifted Zuko the week prior. He rubbed his thumb against the dark pendant and watched the firebender sleep, leaving once he could no longer withstand the hollow pain in his chest.

~~

“Katara,” Sokka whispered outside his sister’s tent, “Are you asleep?”

He heard shuffling from inside the tent that suggested the contrary, before Katara appeared at the entrance, rubbing away the exhaustion from her eyes. 

“Barely,” she answered before catching a whiff of plum wine in his breath. Frowning at him with sisterly disapproval, she asked, “Are you drunk?”

“No—maybe a little, but—” he stammered over his clumsy words, “I—I need to ask something from you.”

“What is it?” she asked, appearing more serious and alert as tiredness receded. 

“I—I need you to look after Zuko.”

Confused and then skeptical, Katara blinked at him, echoing Sokka’s words as if unsure whether she had misheard, or he had misspoken. “Look after...Zuko?”

Sokka stumbled closer, grabbing his sister by her arms so that she could see and _feel_ his helplessness, terror, and utter desperation. Katara flinched as Sokka towered over her, concern shining in her arctic blue eyes.

“You’re stronger than him in a lot of ways,” Sokka admitted, voice cracking. “You understand that fighting for your own life is a part of fighting for the people you love, and I trust that you will do everything you can to survive, to come back to me, dad, Gran Gran, Aang, all of our friends. But for Zuko—sometimes, I get the feeling that maybe—dying with honor is enough for him.”

“Sokka...” Katara whispered quietly as he choked back a sob, treacherous tears falling as he lowered his head in shame.

“I think I—I need him to live.” He couldn’t say it, he just— _couldn’t_. This was the closest he could get, but Katara’s expression softened as if she understood, reaching beyond his guilt and all-consuming fear to the tender vulnerability at his core. She urged him into her embrace, lending him her strength as he finally gave in to the unspeakable anguish shattering through him. 

“Okay, Sokka,” she whispered and repeated more firmly, “Okay. I promise I’ll do what I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Zuko would have won the Agni Kai if he hadn’t been hung over that day (I’m fully kidding, of course). Thanks for reading everyone! Your feedback fuels me


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might seem a little rough as we near the end, but I promise I will stick the Zukka landing. I’m also ready to be done so I can read other fics lmao…(although I do have a much shorter and less heavy Book 2 rewrite in mind, let’s see how my hyperfixation plays out)...But I will miss interacting with everyone in the comments! This fic has been a joy to write largely because of all the wonderful people following it <33
> 
> Also, LOK update: I’m done with Book 2! What is the spoiler warning etiquette for a show that’s like 8 years old (I GUESS STOP READING IF YOU DONT WANT TO BE SPOILED???) Well, -redacted- made a surprise appearance in the Spirit World, and I literally bursted into tears. That is all

By dawn, Sozin’s comet hovered just above the horizon, flushing the sky with the color of fire and scorching the earth like a second sun. Devastating and bright, the comet would have been a wonder to behold had it not marked the end of a century of war and the beginning of either an era of peace or more tragedy and violence than the world had ever known. Fate was in their hands now, as everything our heros had strived for and endured in the past six months culminated to this moment. But no amount of meticulous strategizing with his father had prepared Sokka for arriving at the Fire Nation base just minutes _after_ the airships had already launched. 

“ _Fuck_ —We’re too late!” Sokka cursed over the roar of the engines as the grotesque war machines hovered past them. “The fleet’s already taking off.”

“Then we’re taking off too,” Toph announced as she hopped off the eel hound and catapulted the three of them into the air with her earthbending. 

The landing was a rough one, but Sokka wasn’t going to complain. It was a miracle they made contact with an airship at all since Toph couldn’t see beyond what her feet could feel. They commenced with their plan after infiltrating the vessel, taking over the control room just as the commanding airship at the spearhead of the fleet sputtered and ignited in flames.

“What just happened?” Suki asked as the Fire Lord abandoned his faltering vessel and propelled himself forward with the fire at his fingertips.

“It's Aang!” Sokka exclaimed, catching sight of the airbender through the ship’s binoculars. “He’s back!”

“Should we be helping him?” Suki suggested, but Sokka shook his head. 

“The Fire Lord is Aang's fight,” he said, “We need to stay focused on stopping the fleet.”

He steered the ship determinedly onwards as the ocean receded and the Earth Kingdom mainland peered over the horizon. Cogs turning in his mind, Sokka looked out the window at the adjacent airships all advancing in organized, parallel formation. _Airship slice_ , his brain helpfully provided, as inspiration struck.

“I have an idea,” he said, turning the wheel as sharply as possible before pulling several levers to steady the vessel. “It's going to be a rough ride, and we’ll need to get to the top of this thing, _fast_.”

After setting the course of their airship in motion, Sokka abandoned the control room with Suki and Toph. They reached the ladder connecting to the hatch as their vessel plowed into its neighbor, stripping away the metal floor beneath them. The domino effect they initiated sent one ship crashing into the other, throwing the fleet off course and halting the blasts of fire raining onto the forests below. But as long as the ships managed to stay in flight, the threat to the Earth Kingdom remained imminent still. They needed to ground these ships somehow, to render them useless beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Sokka grabbed Toph’s hand as they climbed atop the roof, guiding her as the three of them raced towards the front of the vessel. But before they could jump onto the next airship, the metal roof tore apart at the seams, separating Suki from Sokka’s outstretched hand.

“Suki!” Sokka shouted, panic—sharp and cold—tightened around his heart. Another airship below them broke her fall, but she was now well beyond Sokka’s reach.

“I’m okay,” Suki shouted back with fierce, commanding determination, “Just finish the mission!”

Acknowledging his fears now would paralyze him. Sokka could only nod at Suki as he soldiered on, helping Toph climb aboard the second ship. He took a moment to gage their situation before turning to the earthbender with their next move.

“Metalbend the rudder so it's jammed in a turning position. The ship will spiral and slam into the others.”

“Got it,” Toph said, spitting into her hands.

The angled rudder sent the airship into a sharp pivot, slamming into its adjacent pair and setting forward another devastating collision course. The crew aboard were notified of their interference by now, as guards emerged from the platforms, hurling comet-fueled balls of fire. 

Grabbing onto Toph, Sokka jumped off the roof, piercing the metal wall with his sword in order to slow their descent. He landed awkwardly on a platform beneath, feeling the bones of his left leg splinter from the impact. The shocking pain was only a distant murmur to his panic and fear, as he reached just in time to catch Toph’s hand before she tumbled off the ship entirely. 

Fueled by adrenaline and stubborn willpower alone, Sokka flung his boomerang with his free hand, knocking out a guard just before he could unleash a bolt of fire. He then jettisoned his sword in the other direction to incapacitate another, only to watch with sinking dread as more guards arrived to fill their place. Bereaved of ideas, Sokka finally acknowledged the icy tendrils of fear thrumming through his veins. 

“Toph—I don’t think boomerang’s coming back this time,” he managed between pained gasps, feeling her hand tighten against his, “It looks like this is the end.” 

With explosions and debris crashing all around them, it would only be a matter of time before the entire fleet plunged out of the sky. Against all odds, they had succeeded in their mission, but at what cost—Sokka had to wonder.

Toph and Suki had trusted him, and Sokka wagered their trust, their _lives_ on a dangerous, _suicidal_ gamble. He and Toph would most certainly die here—either by fire or by fall—and Spirits know where Suki might be since their separation, if she were hurt, captured, or still alive. He could not save his friends, nor could he save himself. The mission to take down the fleet might’ve been a success, but he had failed to protect two of the most important people in his life.

And Zuko— _of course_ , his mind would go to Zuko now—faced his own uncertain fate at the Fire Nation capital, and Sokka would never know if he managed to pull through or not, if he and Katara kept their mutual promises to safeguard one another. He would never know if Aang would emerge victorious, if the Earth Kingdom would be spared from the Fire Lord’s inferno, or if their sacrifices on this airship would be worth it in the end. He would never return to the South Pole with his father, to help rebuild his small, war-torn village that he held more dear in his heart than any of the glimmering, fantastic cities they had crossed throughout their journey. 

And lastly, he would never realize a life beyond the war, a dream that Zuko had once lashed out against and mocked because of his own fear and pain. It had been easy, _cathartic_ to imagine those dreams as reality, and just as easy to reimagine them now with Zuko among his friends, by his side. Sokka had given Zuko so much grief for awaiting an honorable death. And in his waning seconds, he regretted—more than he could endure—that _he_ would be the one to break their unspoken oath of reuniting in a time of peace.

Had it been foolish to hope? His misery only seemed to intensify as a consequence of it now. But hope was the reason that any of them had reached this far. And the pain they felt now was because of the loss of their hope, not because they had dared to in the first place.

Giving Toph’s hand a final squeeze, Sokka pinched closed his eyes and counted the seconds before the world around them would cease to exist.

~~

Suki saved them in the end. Fierce, clever, dauntless Suki steered the last functioning airship into theirs just as the firebenders were poised for execution. Sokka and Toph escaped atop the rescue vessel, and they somehow managed to land this thing among the neighboring cliffs. The comet continued to ignite the vermilion sky, and in the near distance, the battle between the Avatar and the Firelord raged on. Toph created an earth tent under which they sought refuge, while Suki strapped branches to Sokka’s broken leg.

Sokka winced as his bones set into place, biting his lips hard enough to draw blood. He laid flat on his back, eyes shut and chest heaving as he waited for the worst of the pain to pass.

“It’s broken in two places.” He heard Suki say above him. “But this will have to do.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, opening his eyes to find her returning his gaze.

Misery lurched inside his chest as he took in her delicate features, pinched with worry for him. Spirits, she was everything he had long for in a companion, admired in a warrior, and needed in a friend. She was beautiful and smart and brave and perfect, and he cared for her so much—as much as he would have pained to lose her. It would be _so easy_ to love her, but Sokka had danced on the edge of death, and in that moment of reckoning, it had not been Suki whom he had searched for in the darkness, whom he had loathed the most to let go.

The distant hammering of thunder and lightning reminded him that he could not stay, and when he spoke, his words were irrational and panicked and utterly shattered, even to his own ears. “Does any of the airships still work? I-I need to go to the Fire Nation capital.”

“ _Why_?” Toph, who had collapsed on the dirt beside him, objected with indignation. 

“I just do, okay?” Sokka insisted, “I can’t stay here and wait. I need to—”

“It’s Zuko, isn’t it?” Suki whispered, and Sokka could hear the echo of heartbreak in her voice.

The sudden, impossible tightness in his throat rendered his speech useless, even if his instincts demanded him to say _anything at all_ to quell the look of disappointment on her face.

“I wish you would’ve just told me,” she admonished him, his silence all but confirming her doubts, “I would have understood.”

“I-I know,” Sokka managed once his voice finally returned, “I should have, but I—I wasn’t honest with myself either. I wish I realized this sooner.”

“He’s not lying,” Toph softly interjected, a reluctant witness to the utter trainwreck that was his love life at the moment. 

Sokka despised himself, eyes stinging from guilt and humiliation. He could not imagine a worse time to have this conversation, and he had no one to blame but himself. He had been too cowardly to confront his problems head on, choosing instead to defer in hopes for a more convenient time to address them. That time never came, and his avoidance only prolonged the suffering of everyone involved. 

“I’m sorry, Suki,” he admitted miserably, “I really am. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry too,” she sighed, turning away, and Sokka deserved all the awful feelings stirring inside of him. Suki had every right to her anger and scorn, although only sadness shone in her sullen, blue eyes.

“Suki, please—I can’t stay. I have to—”

“No.” Her voice this time was resolute. “And I’m not saying this because I’m angry. The Fire Nation is a day’s journey at best, on a functional airship no less. You won’t get there in time to make a difference. Just stay put and try not to hurt yourself any more.”

“Yeah,” Toph agreed, reminding Sokka that she too was trapped in this uncomfortable, awful conversation. “And I thought we were supposed to be here in case Aang needs our help.”

“Fuck— _fuck_ , you’re right. You both are,” Sokka conceded, burying his face in his hands, “What in Spirits am I even thinking— _Shit_!”

“Take it down a notch, Captain Boomerang.” Toph sounded concerned despite her brash choice of words. “You’re going to drive yourself insane.”

Sokka struggled for calm, his frustration and anxiety stirring so violently that nausea threatened to overtake him. How much longer will this stupid comet be here? Without the airship fleet, the Earth Kingdom was no longer in immediate danger. Aang didn’t even _need_ to defeat the Fire Lord at this specific time anymore, just halt him long enough for the comet to pass. Once Ozai returned to being just a _regular_ evil overlord, he would likely order his remaining forces to retreat, and the rebellion would have gained enough ground in this war to fight another day. Maybe this should be their new plan now that the fleet was out of the equation. Or at least, it could be a viable alternative if Aang was truly at risk of losing the battle.

Sokka grunted as he pushed himself to sit. “How’s Aang doing? I think I might have a way to help him.”

With Toph and Suki holding him up on each side, Sokka hobbled to the entrance of the tent, squinting at the firestorm sky. The Avatar and the Fire Lord were mere specks before the burning comet, but something else—something unexpected—seized Sokka’s attention as it hurtled directly towards them at a frightening speed.

“What’s _that_?” Sokka gasped, nearly stumbling backwards had it not been the support of his friends.

“What’s what?” Toph asked as Sokka wrung his arm from her grasp, pointing to the terrifying winged-creature that grew larger by the millisecond.

“That— _thing_!” he exclaimed, “It’s coming right at us!”

“Sokka…” Suki sounded hesitant, concerned. “There’s nothing there.”

“No— _fuck_! It’s a—” The rest of his words vanished along with the air in his lungs as a _fucking ghost dragon_ surged through his body and abducted his soul.

~~

Flat on his stomach and clinging onto the back of a dragon by his fingernails, Sokka grew tired of screaming at some point, pressing his face against the surprisingly cool scales in a reluctant effort to conserve his strength.

 _Be careful what you wish for,_ the village elders had often told him when he was a young boy, desperate to prove himself in the eyes of his father as Hakoda and the other men of his tribe departed for war. Sokka never understood the logic or appeal of a statement like that. War was going to find them, regardless of what Sokka’s desires had been. Whether he wished to join his father or not mattered little in the way his life would play out. Coincidence had brought Sokka and Katara to Aang that day, frozen inside the iceberg. Zuko had found their village in the same breath, and together, they catalyzed the beginning of the end of the Fire Nation's reign. 

It was nonsensical and superstitious to believe that wishful thinking without appropriate action would have any meaningful impact on reality. Sure, Sokka might have _wished_ very hard to be at the Fire Nation capital, and yes, a spirit dragon _did_ appear as if summoned, making a beeline for said destination with a horrified Sokka in tow. But Sokka remained adamant that the _act of wishing_ had little to do with his current predicament. The apparent karmic retribution he was experiencing should be wholly and logically attributed to coincidence alone.

Upon arriving at the capital, Sokka felt his stomach turn as the dragon slowed to a halt, hovering above the quiet streets and empty mansions. The Royal City was abandoned, just as it had been during the failed invasion. Perhaps, Azula had lured them into another trap, but that made little sense considering the comet magnified her power beyond anything she’d experience in her lifetime. Azula would not resort to trickery with an opportunity like this. She would be itching to flaunt her superiority and destroy her brother in the most cruel and devastating display of power imaginable.

“An Agni Kai!” Sokka exclaimed, the pieces falling into place at last. He leaned closer to speak to the dragon, praying that the creature could grasp the meaning and sentiment behind his words. “Can you take me to where they would hold an Agni Kai?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Would love to hear from you <33


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I got hit with the worst writer's block this weekend! (I knew exactly what I wanted to write, but I could barely string two sentences together) Hopefully, I got over that hump, and the chapter doesn't read too weird
> 
> I also decided to split a long(er) chapter, so two more updates until the end! Thanks to everyone who's followed along this far ;u;

Dense, black smoke rose like pillars beneath the vermilion sky as the Royal Palace burned at the core of the abandoned city. The dragon carried Sokka to their destination, perching atop a tiered roof as they looked into the courtyard below. The final Agni Kai between the fire prince and princess had already begun, as flames of orange and blue encircled one another in an inexorable, brutal dance, the balance of power a constant teeter although neither force could extinguish the other completely. 

Azula propelled forward with the flames at her feet, but Zuko remained focused and calm, redirecting her attacks before matching her strength with his own powerful blasts. Sokka watched, mesmerized by the awe-inspiring display as hope and dread warred for dominance inside his hammering heart. Zuko appeared to have endured the worst of the onslaught, while Azula grew sloppier and more unhinged as their deadlocked stretched on, frustration eclipsing her prodigious talent, her typical poise. She had been untouchable for so long that all sense of humility had eluded her, as well as the capacity to process even the slightest chance of defeat at the hands of her inferior brother whom she had loathed and abused, hunted and betrayed. 

Zuko...could actually win this, Sokka thought as he teemed with breathless anticipation, daring to hope at last.

“What, no lightning today?” the fire prince mocked as their latest clash simmered to another stalemate, affording both of them a moment of respite. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll redirect it?”

“Oh, I'll show you lightning!” Azula gritted out as white sparks crackled at her fingertips, succumbing to her brother’s taunt too easily to not rouse suspicion. The rest of her movements played out in near slow motion as Sokka noticed Katara standing in the periphery and anticipated Azula’s move only a fraction of a second before Zuko did.

“No!” They shouted in unison as a vicious grin split across Azula’s face. She extended her arm, directing the fatal strike at the waterbender instead.

Zuko lunged into the path of the attack, off-balance and unprepared as the lightning struck him just below the chest. He failed to channel the blast, the lightning coursing through his body as a cry of agony shattered the ringing silence around them. He collapsed to the ground, and Sokka could only watch as blanketed fear closed around his heart, churning his blood ice-cold. 

“Zuko!” Katara shouted, rushing towards her friend only for another bolt of lightning to narrowly graze her ankles. Azula laughed maniacally as she launched her flames at her new opponent, forcing Katara to retreat.

_No, no, no, no, no…_

Denial and disbelief echoed on frantic repeat as Sokka leapt from the roof and into the courtyard, feeling neither the harsh impact of gravity nor pain from his broken leg in his spiritual state. He ran to kneel beside Zuko, who had collapsed on his side, curling in on himself as his arms covered his injured chest. 

Was he still alive? Sokka couldn’t tell. He couldn’t check his heartbeat or feel for his breath, because _fuck_ —he was a spirit and he couldn’t feel _anything_. Zuko was lying so still, his skin damp and drained of color. Even if he wasn’t dead yet, he might be _dying_. 

Zuko could _die_ before anyone else could find him.

Sokka staggered to his feet as the scorching wind around him whistled and hissed. Azula was after Katara now, her waterbending diminished under the comet’s influence while Azula’s fire and lightning thrived. She wouldn’t be able to dodge Azula forever, as Sokka looked towards the comet once more, bloated and yellow in the sky overhead, taunting him with its perpetual presence. 

Katara narrowly evaded another blast as Sokka scrambled towards her, only to pause halfway as he realized that there was nothing he could do—no boomerang, no sword, not even a _physical body_ to lunge at Azula. But even if he had all those things, what _could_ he do? He was no match for Azula even under the best of circumstances. And Azula would only use Sokka against Katara, the same way she had used Katara against Zuko.

Nails biting into his palms, Sokka clenched his fists as his vision blurred through a veil of angry, bitter tears. His own inadequacy—his _uselessness_ —had never felt more apparent. He despised Azula in that moment, more than the unmemorable, faceless soldiers that had plundered his village and taken away his mother, more than even the Fire Lord himself. He would end her this moment if he could, before setting fire to this entire, damnable city.

“Why did you bring me here?” Sokka shouted, whipping around to face the dragon, the only creature that could possibly perceive his unanswerable fury, his inconsolable grief. “What’s the point of showing me all of this if I can’t do a _damn_ thing? Is this supposed to teach me some kind of a lesson—as if I don’t already—”

His voice broke off with a sharp hitch, as cruel, hurtful endings to that sentence flooded through his mind. He was powerless and weak, and he could only hide so much of his failings beneath strategies and clever tricks. When push came to shove, he had always been helpless at best, a liability at worst—too _ordinary_ to protect the people he cared for. Katara was fighting a losing battle all by herself, and Zuko—Zuko was _dying_ before his eyes, and Sokka couldn’t touch him or utter a single word to let him know that he wasn’t alone. The Spirits were mocking him, they had to be. Why else would they bring him here to simply bear witness as more of his loved ones were engulfed by the flames?

The dragon watched Sokka intently, even as his furious outburst dwindled to broken sobs. Wings suddenly expanding, the creature took flight, making a full lap around the courtyard before descending to lie beside the fallen prince. Long neck extended and tail curling, the dragon circled its body around Zuko protectively—almost tenderly.

Sokka blinked away his tears, his anger and despair dwindling like a forgotten hearth. There was no malice in that gesture, only melancholy and quiet, gentle devotion. Sokka approached the dragon slowly, the words of his father echoing in the sudden stillness of his mind. _Being a man is knowing where you are needed the most._

And Sokka was needed here, and _now_ , according to this dragon, to be with Zuko even if only in spirit. But what could he possibly do other than—

“Hey,” Sokka said as he knelt beside the firebender, threading his fingers through sweat-curled hair despite touching and feeling nothing. “I—I saw what you did for Katara. You said you’d look after my sister, and you kept your word. I don’t think I can thank you enough.”

He forced himself to smile, even if what he had managed in the end was watery and weak. 

“We took down the airship fleet, you know? We’re all okay now, but at some point, I thought I was going to die and—even then, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I know I’m not in any position to ask for more, but—” He drew in a shaky breath, followed by a deeper one, as he fought the tremors from seizing his voice. “—Please, please stay alive. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend, and I’m sorry for all the things I never told you because I was too scared and _stupid_. But come back to me, _please_. I—I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

Tears coming hard and fast, Sokka gave in to his anguish, feeling himself shatter completely. If Zuko could hear him somehow, and his devotion could make a difference in the end, Sokka would gladly plead until his voice grew hoarse, until his soul shattered a hundred times more. 

Words spilling without reservation or end, Sokka only dared to pause when Zuko moved from beneath him, but not of his own volition, he soon realized, as Katara knelt beside the firebender as well, her eyes glimmering defiant and blue against the firestorm sky. Relief swept across Sokka like a tidal wave, leaving him pliant and breathless. She had managed to emerge victorious— _his fierce, incredible sister_.

“Hang in there, you’re going to be alright,” Katara whispered as she placed Zuko gently on his back, revealing the starburst of scorched red against the pale skin of his chest. Sokka wiped his tears as Katara motioned her healing hands, a small, tremorous laugh escaping him as the pain on Zuko’s face appeared to ease.

“My brother needs you,” Katara continued, “More than you know. More than either of you know.”

Throat tightening, Sokka looked up at his sister just as Zuko between them released a soft, pained groan. But before Sokka could begin to process the dizzying whirlwind of emotions, the dragon expanded its wings once more, circling them within a shroud of smoke.

“Wait, wait!” Sokka pleaded as he was propelled upwards, weightless like a feather in the air. “I don’t want to leave yet! Please—wait—”

~~

After an indeterminable period of darkness, consciousness finally returned to Sokka. He opened his bleary eyes to find his entire field of vision consisting of Aang’s curious face, peering down at him from inside a too-bright room. 

“Sokka, you’re awake!” the airbender exclaimed, bouncing a little from a sudden gust of wind beneath him.

“Aang,” Sokka returned weakly, his mind sluggish like molasses. “You’re— _alive_.”

“Sure am!” Aang broke into a delighted grin that spanned ear to ear. Sokka winced as another cheery gust of wind unsettled his fragile equilibrium.

“You...defeated the Fire Lord, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, I did.” The airbender shrugged, as if he had won a tough game of Pai Sho instead of restoring peace to a world ravaged by a century of war.

“That’s just—great.” Sokka sighed, sinking back into the giant bed they had tucked him in. “Well done, my friend.”

Despite the rush of relief, Sokka remained disoriented and off-kilter, feeling as if he had emerged from an endless fever dream where lifetimes had passed. Distant voices and fragmented thoughts continued to whirl at the edges of his subconscious, even as his mind worked tirelessly to separate facts from delirium. 

Recalling the airbender’s disinclination to commit murder, even against murderers, Sokka fought back a grimace as he asked, “So is Ozai like...I mean, did you have to…”

“No, I found another way.” Aang shook his head. “I took away his bending.”

“Well— _shit_ ,” Sokka responded gracelessly, “When’d you learn how to do that?”

“A few weeks ago, from a lion turtle.”

“A lion turtle?” Sokka repeated, eyes growing saucer-wide, “A few _weeks_? How long have I been out?”

“A few weeks...” The airbender winced as Sokka shot up from the bed, hissing in pain as he was suddenly reminded of his still-injured leg. Right, that had occurred as well.

“What the hell happened?” Sokka frantically demanded, “Where’s everybody else? Are they okay? What is this place? Where are we—”

“Calm down, Sokka.” Aang gripped him by his shoulders, urging him to relax with gentle insistence. “We’re in Ba Sing Se. And don’t worry, everyone’s fine. We were actually worried the most about _you_ , but now that you’re finally awake, everything will be okay.”

“Right,” Sokka whispered, pinching his eyes closed only to see fire and lightning beneath shuttered eyelids. His chest tightened when he finally garnered the courage to ask, “Is...Zuko alright?”

Aang looked surprised by Sokka’s decision to single out the firebender, but he answered the question without further pressing. “Azula hit him with a bolt of lightning, but he’d recovered since. He even came to see you a few days ago, but he couldn’t stay for long—” The airbender then paused, his mind flitting elsewhere. “—I was supposed to let him know the moment you woke up. I was supposed to let everyone know, actually.”

“Wait!” Sokka nearly tumbled out of the bed as he grabbed for Aang’s robes, just as the airbender was about to dash out of reach. “Where _is_ everyone exactly?”

“Katara and I stayed behind with you,” came the patient explanation. “Toph, Suki, and your dad are working to free everyone from the Fire Nation prisons. And Zuko—well, he has a lot to sort through now that the war is over.”

“So everyone’s in the Fire Nation, except for us?”

“Yeah.” the airbender nodded. “But they said they’d come back the moment you’re awake.”

“Wait!” Sokka halted Aang before he could scamper away once more. “Don’t—Don’t tell them just yet.”

“Why not?” Aang frowned down at him, brows pinched with concern. “They’d all want to see you.”

“I want to go to the Fire Nation,” Sokka insisted, “Can you take us there instead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's followed along this far ;u;
> 
> Comments/kudos appreciated <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized this fic needed more Aang...That is all the preface I have for this chapter

Katara eventually consented to their trip to the Fire Nation, but only after an hour of begging and cajoling on Sokka’s part. She had insisted that Sokka stay in Ba Sing Se and rest, which frankly was ridiculous advice since Sokka had _already_ done that for the past two weeks, even if he hadn’t been conscious to suffer through the entirety of it. What had finally convinced Katara was his begrudging admission that he wanted to see Zuko. He knew that _she knew_ of his feelings by now, and he was willing to forgo a bit of his pride to capitalize on her compassionate nature, just enough to get her on board with their plan. Katara had sighed and rolled her eyes with an overabundance of exasperation but nonetheless, withdrew her objections.

She stepped out to the market early next morning for some last minute supplies. Sokka waited with Aang and Appa by the docks and wracked his brains over what he should say to Zuko. Where would he even begin? An earnest admission of being a complete idiot felt like a good start, followed by an impassioned declaration of—what? Of _love_?

Did he love Zuko? He had felt so many things for Zuko in the past few months, all of which were wordless and desperate, irrational yet all-consuming—some of those things might as well be love. And even if Sokka hadn’t quite reached that point yet, he could easily see himself hurtling over that cliff if Zuko were to return his affections. 

Sokka conceded that he had willfully lived in a state of oblivion, but their situation had also started out— _difficult_. Sure, Sokka had to resolve his feelings for Suki first, but Zuko had also been their _enemy_ , who had accomplished terrible feats in his relentless pursuit of the Avatar. This wasn’t something Sokka could simply _get over_. But even after becoming friends with Zuko and trusting each other with their lives, as well as sharing numerous moments of physical and emotional intimacy, Sokka had needed a near death experience and abduction by a spirit dragon to finally force his affection for the firebender to the limelight of his thoughts.

Spirits, he was an _idiot_. But he was trying his best to cease and desist. And a good start would be to profess his feelings to Zuko, using words that the firebender could actually understand. Even if Sokka still struggled to understand those feelings himself.

He sighed as he slouched into Appa’s saddle, growing more restless with each second they wasted in idleness. Katara was taking too long at the market, and even Aang had gotten bored of waiting for her, opting to meditate to pass the time. The Fire Nation was a day’s journey on Appa, and Sokka almost wished the spirit dragon was here. Despite the horrific nature of that encounter, the dragon did traverse the distance between the Earth and Fire kingdoms in no time at all. 

Sokka never quite figured out why that had happened. Maybe Aang and his infinite Avatar wisdom could offer some clues.

“Hey, Aang,” he said, pulling the airbender from his meditation, “Do you happen to be friends with a spirit dragon?”

“Spirit dragon?” Aang furrowed his brows. “Do you mean Fang? He’s Avatar Roku’s animal guide.”

“Maybe,” Sokka sighed, “What are the chances that a _different_ spirit dragon abducted me during Sozin’s comet.”

“What?” Aang’s eyes flickered open in surprise, silver gaze catching his. “You went on a spiritual journey? Was that why you were gone for so long?”

“I—No, I only remember one specific part, which shouldn’t have taken longer than a few hours,” Sokka conceded with a grimace. “After that, I think I was just _really_ tired.” 

“So, what happened?” Aang insisted, to which Sokka proceeded to describe how the dragon had commandeered his soul and brought him to the Fire Nation capital, where he witnessed Azula taking down Zuko during their final Agni Kai.

“There was nothing I could do, as a spirit, other than _talking_ to Zuko,” Sokka explained, “And even then, I doubt that he actually heard what I had to say.”

“What did you say?”

“Uh—you know, the usual.” Sokka looked away as redness rushed to his face. “Hang in there, buddy. Don’t give up.”

Aang's smile was kind, almost knowing, and Sokka wondered sourly if the airbender knew about his feelings as well because— _why the hell not_ ? Katara, Suki, and Toph all knew. His dad might suspect something as well, in mortifying retrospect. Only Aang was left at this point, other than Zuko himself. _Fuck_ , Sokka really needed to clear things up as soon as possible.

“I don’t know why I was brought there,” he continued stubbornly, “I mean I have an _idea_ , but—no, it still doesn't make sense completely.”

“I have an idea too.” Aang smiled again, to which Sokka arched a skeptical brow.

“Really? Well, you first.”

“You know how Zuko always says it’s his destiny to return honor to the Fire Nation?” the airbender began.

Sokka snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“I think Avatar Roku believes it too, since Zuko is both his and Sozin’s descendant.”

Aang went on to explain how Roku always blamed himself for the past century of war. He had the opportunity to kill Sozin before the war had even begun but out of sentiment for his former friend, Roku had chosen to spare Sozin’s life instead. While their tumultuous relationship ended with the Fire Lord’s betrayal and the Avatar’s death, their friendship was initially founded on mutual devotion and love. 

“Are you telling me Roku and Sozin...were a _thing_?” Sokka cringed a little at the thought.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Aang admitted, “But love manifests in many ways. And regardless of what kind of love it had been, they had loved each other deeply at one point in their lives. Roku always believed that it was his weakness that set the world on the course of destruction, but could you imagine how difficult it must be to kill someone you once loved?”

“Or love someone you once wanted to kill.”

“What?” Aang asked, and Sokka withdrew quickly, flustering with embarrassment. 

“Nothing—never mind, continue.”

Aang believed that Zuko represented hope for the Fire Nation in more ways than one. Roku saw in Zuko what he once saw in Sozin, the good parts at least—his strength and ambition, his sense of honor—the aspects of Sozin that he had once loved before the Fire Lord lost his way. And Zuko reflected certain facets of Roku as well—his kindness and loyalty, his willingness to sacrifice. Connected in both bloodline and spirit, Zuko symbolized a joining of the Avatar and the Fire Lord that had failed to materialize during Roku’s lifetime. Apart, Sozin succumbed to his own darkness, while Roku failed to stop him, and the world fell into chaos around them. But together, a century later and in Zuko, they could finally play their part in restoring balance and peace.

“So Zuko is sort of— _their child_?” Sokka commented.

“Yes, in that any child is a union of love.”

Love did not only come from the people around them, the airbender elaborated. Love was a form of energy that transcended body and time, connecting them to all the people they loved and will love in their lifetimes combined, until all people were irrevocably connected through this boundless force.

“My people were wiped out during the war,” Aang said, “But I can feel their spirits in you, and in all the people I’ve grown to love since. Even if the people you love are gone, their love for you will stay in your heart and grow with you, be transformed and reborn into new love. As long as you continue to love others, the ones you lost will never truly leave this world.”

“Spirits,” Sokka said, reluctantly touched, “Where do you learn to say stuff like that?”

“From the air nomads,” Aang answered with a wistful smile, “And from Guru Pathik. From everyone I loved in my past lives, and everyone I love now.”

“So, do you think—” Sokka ventured on with a touch of hesitation, “—that it’s okay for anyone to love anyone, regardless of what kind of love it might be?”

The airbender nodded.

“Even for—a boy to love another boy?”

“Of course, Sokka.” Aang’s response was open and bright, without a hint of doubt. “Love is the most powerful force that connects us to others. To love someone, and to be loved, is beautiful and a blessing.”

“Thanks, Aang,” Sokka said, toughening his smile despite the stinging behind his eyes. He then pulled the airbender into a hug.

Deep down, he had always known that it was okay for someone like him to love someone like Zuko. It just—didn’t hurt to hear it sometimes, coming from someone else. 

~~

Sokka snuck away from Aang and Katara upon reaching the Fire Nation capital. He abandoned his crutch in Appa’s saddle, not wanting to draw attention to his injury, and managed to move well enough in the short term despite the slight limp that followed his gait. He wasn’t proud of his tactic—name dropping the Avatar to the first servant he saw—but the servant easily surrendered the information he was after, mainly Zuko’s location within the palace.

Sokka eventually made his way to the imperial gardens to find Zuko standing by the turtleduck pond. The firebender was draped in royal red and gold, his hair pulled back in a top knot. He looked well and content as he traversed the cobblestone paths, but he was not alone, Sokka soon noticed. 

He was with Mai. 

_Oh_ , Sokka swallowed as realization sank like a stone, before panic rose so violently, leaving him nearly disoriented. What the hell was he thinking, trying to surprise Zuko like that? The war was over, had been so for weeks, and Zuko would obviously want to scrap together the remnants of his former life. Or at least, the parts that were worth keeping. He was back in the Fire Nation, catching up with old friends—rekindling old flames, Sokka thought bitterly. 

_Shit_ , Sokka needed to get out of there before he lost his mind, or before the pair of them spotted him, whichever came first. And he certainly would have succeeded if it weren’t for his stupid limp, but Zuko noticed him just as he was about to turn, eyes widening with surprised recognition.

“Sokka.”

 _Fuck, fuck, too late now_ , Sokka thought as he forced himself to smile, trying his best to hide his limp as he approached the pair.

“You—You’re awake.” Zuko was close enough now for Sokka to catch the myriad of emotions suddenly wrenched from the firebender. 

“I am awake,” Sokka agreed.

“And you look well.”

“I am well.”

“I’m—so glad to see you,” Zuko breathed, and maybe he meant it, but a torrent of complicated and unspoken thoughts whirled behind those golden eyes, so tortuous that no one emotion managed to stand out.

“Don’t worry, Zuko, there’s no need for introductions,” Mai interjected, as bored as ever, despite the slightest hint of a smile beneath her aloof demeanor.

“I’m sorry, Mai.” Zuko grimaced, tearing his eyes away from their unexpected guest as he turned to address her. “Can I have a word with Sokka alone?”

“Fine,” Mai sighed, rolling her eyes, “But don’t be late for your important meeting, _Fire Lord_.” 

She leaned in for a quick kiss to his lips, leaving the firebender stunned with wide-eyed shock. Zuko then returned to Sokka, appearing at a loss as to what to do next. And how was Sokka supposed to react to that, other than being utterly crushed? And it had not been the kiss that pained him the most—although that pain was far from insignificant. Rather, Mai’s parting words haunted him in the deafening beats that followed.

“You’re the new Fire Lord?”

“I will be,” Zuko admitted, “After the coronation.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be Fire Lord,” Sokka accused with a touch of petulance. Something hurt flickered across Zuko’s face—something akin to regret—and _fuck_ , Sokka must have sounded as wounded and pathetic as he felt in that moment, for Zuko to react that way.

“It was my birthright before my banishment, and well, Uncle made the suggestion and—” the firebender fumbled through his explanation. “I never thought about it, but—now that we are on the other side of the war, I want to do more for my country. I have a lifetime now, to figure these things out.”

Those were Sokka’s own words from before, and Zuko had taken them to heart, even if Sokka had shouted them at the time. He dropped his gaze from the firebender’s face, down the expanse of his neck to his exposed collar. The robe was loose at the top, exposing the edges of bandages as Zuko had also been recovering from his injuries. Zuko caught Sokka staring and brought his hand to his chest as if searching instinctively for something there. But they both knew that he would find nothing. The pendant Sokka had given him was gone. 

“Th—That’s great,” Sokka managed through his pain. “I’m happy for you.”

“You don’t sound happy,” came the hesitant reply. 

“That’s because—I came here to tell you something. But it’s pointless now.”

“What is it, Sokka?” The firebender asked and then, urged—soft and imploring—when Sokka showed no indication of answering. “Tell me, _please_.”

The quiet _please_ got to him in the end. There was no sense in confessing his feelings _now_ , but Sokka might as well take the opportunity to come clean. They both deserved honesty after everything they had gone through, even if honesty would only cause them additional pain. Sokka inhaled deeply, before dragging his words through the knot in his throat.

“I’m being selfish,” he explained with a crestfallen smile. “I came here to tell you that I was an idiot before. I wish I told you sooner, but when I said I needed you to come out of the war alive, what I should have said was—come back to me, _be with me_. Because— _I like you_ —and I really want to be with you.”

“I see,” Zuko whispered.

“I didn’t know you were going to be the Fire Lord.”

“And that changes your desire to be with me.”

“No, of course not,” Sokka objected, “I’d support you no matter what. I just—this isn’t the first time that I—” His words broke off with a grimace; the familiarity of this admission did nothing to ease the torment of it. “—I know you have duties to your country, expectations to fulfill, an image to keep and...you simply can’t be with someone like me, even if you wanted to.”

Aang might be right about all love being a blessing, but princes and princesses—and _Fire Lords_ —were often not afforded the luxury of choice in this matter. Sokka couldn’t help but draw parallels from his hopeless affection for Yue, but his ill-fated love evoked even greater misery the second time around. 

They managed to survive the war; their potentials were boundless. Sokka made a name for himself as a hero, as _somebody_. Maybe _now_ , he would have stood a chance with Yue, but Zuko was a _man_ in need of a wife, an _heir_ , and that was simply not something Sokka could ever achieve, no matter how diligent or lucky he was. He could never be what Zuko needed him to be.

“I suppose not,” the firebender admitted with reluctance, and any residual hope that Sokka might have hidden in the shadows of his subconscious was effectively crushed in that moment. 

“It’s okay,” he responded with a dejected laugh. “If this is something you set your heart out to do, then I wouldn’t wish for anything different. You are still one of my closest friends, and—I’ll be your friend no matter what.”

He reached over to cup Zuko’s cheek, his thumb sweeping against the ridge of his scar. Zuko showed no resistance, just wide-eyed surprise as the sun caught in the rings of his irises then, turning them the warm color of honey. Sokka leaned in before his logic could overtake his desires and saw golden eyes fluttering shut before him. Soft lips pressed against his, pliant and accepting as they mirrored his movements, his longing and need. Zuko was kissing him back. He wanted Sokka too. But this recognition only caused the ache in his heart to focus sharply and constrict. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to do that at least once,” Sokka admitted, pulling away with great difficulty. This was their first proper kiss; too bad it felt more like a goodbye. “You’re obviously busy and I—I guess I should go now.”

“Wait, Sokka,” Zuko spoke just as Sokka motioned to leave. “Will you—come to my coronation?”

“I don’t know,” Sokka admitted, loathing his cowardice that prevented him from answering in the affirmative. He promised he would support Zuko no matter what, hadn’t he? But his heartbreak felt so absolute in that moment that he wanted to think about nothing, to _feel_ nothing. He’d rather vanish altogether than to be alone with this realization right now.

“I'll try,” was the best he could promise, before parting ways with Zuko once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will fix it in the next chapter *nervous laugh*  
> Thanks for reading! Kudos/comments always appreciated <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for being patient! I finished the last chapter yesterday but was too tired to read it over. Still a little nervous because endings are hard, ngl, so I’d love to hear feedback! Also lol @ myself a month and a half ago for thinking this fic could be wrapped up in 10K! It’s been a fun ride, and tysm to everyone who has followed/supported me along the way!

Prince Zuko declared an end to the 100 Years’ War shortly after Fire Lord Ozai’s defeat at the hands of the Avatar. As the only serviceable member of the immediate royal family remaining, Zuko was the heir apparent to the throne, but for reasons known only to his closest advisers, the prince chose to postpone his coronation twice since his first and only public appearance post-war. Some supported his decision to wait, as a war would only be over on the surface unless all prisoners were freed and troops withdrawn. Others argued that the prince must accept the crown without delay, ensuring stability to a leaderless nation first and foremost, before the details of their reparations could be sorted out. 

Sokka wondered why Zuko wouldn’t just get the coronation over with. There was no point in stalling the inevitable. He was already _acting_ like the Fire Lord, so the coronation would only be symbolic at best. The answer to this question could easily be obtained if Sokka were to _ask_ Zuko, but he had returned to the South Pole by then, occupying himself with rebuilding his home and helping his father negotiate with other scattered tribes across the region. Sokka worked tirelessly during the day so he could sleep dreamlessly at night. He figured that his energy could alway spent elsewhere, whenever agonizing thoughts of Zuko or those countless what-ifs and what-could-have-beens flitted through his mind. And he almost succeeded with this strategy. Almost. 

When a message from the Fire Nation eventually arrived, Sokka felt the deep-seated wounds of his heart fester anew. He and Zuko hadn’t written to each other in the past month, despite Sokka’s several half-finished attempts that ended up unsent and crumpled in the trash bin. His chest tightened as he tore away the imperial seal, knowing that the next time he heard from Zuko would be a formal invitation to his coronation. 

And Sokka was right, except the letter wasn’t even from Zuko personally. It was sent on behalf of the future Fire Lord, inviting his closest friends to a pre-coronation ceremony a week in advance. 

_To do what, to hang out?_ Sokka thought contemptuously, as if there wasn’t enough work to do for either of them since the end of the war. And Sokka didn’t want to waste a whole week loitering around in stuffy, uncomfortable clothes—in the Fire Nation no less—while feigning happiness for Zuko’s sake. 

_Fuck, fuck_ —he didn’t mean that. His shame heightened impossibly at the notion of being such a terrible friend. If Zuko was happy and fulfilled in his new role as a world leader, then Sokka would be happy for him too. He just couldn’t quite shake off his feelings of dejection as Zuko carved a new life for himself without Sokka, or at least, a new life where Sokka could not be there for him the way he was meant to be. He could be happy for Zuko and miserable with himself at the same time. This conflict shouldn’t be anything to feel ashamed over.

Sokka never responded to the invitation, tossing it into the fire instead. He did write a short, private letter to Zuko, apologizing for his likely absence at the ceremony while promising to attend the actual coronation. A few days later, he received a message from Zuko, an even shorter response that sounded faintly hurt but also resigned, which Sokka definitely read more times than he cared to admit and might have even shed a few tears over. 

Katara and their father set sail for the Fire Nation the following week, but Sokka chose to remain behind despite their insistence for him to join them. Katara wrote to him en route, her concerns soon delving into chastisement as she speculated—correctly—Sokka’s reasoning for skipping the pre-coronation ceremony. 

_...I know things between you and Zuko didn’t work out the way you wanted, but he is still your friend above all else. The coronation is probably one of the most important days of his life, and it won’t be easy for him to lead a nation that had caused the last century of war. He needs his friends to support him, to be there for him—including you._ _Especially you_ _. For Spirit’s sake, stop moping and get over here on the next available ship..._

Katara was right. _Of course_ , she was. She had always been able to read Sokka like a book, which—depending on the situation—could be equal parts comforting and infuriating. Sokka already promised to be there for the actual coronation, hadn’t he? And he intended to keep that promise. Coronation day was what mattered the most, not some party before that. Besides, his brooding would only dampen their spirits if he were to go. Honestly, Katara should get off his back and mind her own business for once in her life.

Sokka prepared for departure on the last possible day, driven by pure, petty indignation towards his sister. And because his life was a cosmic joke, an unexpected storm steered his ship off course, and he ended up at the Fire Nation capital two days later than he initially planned, missing Zuko’s coronation entirely.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, you massive idiot!_ Sokka berated himself as he vaulted off the ship before it had even docked properly. He bolted into the capital like a lunatic, beseeching every guard and official on sight for a conference with the Fire Lord.

“Please tell him Sokka’s here,” he gasped out, winded from sprinting nearly the entire distance from the docks, “I know he’s probably busy. He might’ve even blacklisted me—I wouldn’t blame him—but my ship got caught in a storm, and I’m _so, so_ sorry for missing the coronation. I would never have done that on purpose. Please let him know I’m here. I’m willing to wait however long it takes. I just need to see him, _please_!”

“I will relay your message,” responded a bewildered official whose attention he had finally drawn with his loud clamoring. She then wrinkled her delicate nose at his unkempt state from being at sea for nearly a week. “In the meantime, why don’t you freshen up in one of our spare chambers?”

After bathing and dressing himself in clean clothes, Sokka waited for further instructions as he paced about the room to release the anxious energy thrumming through him. The walls of the chamber felt suffocating around the sheer magnitude of his desperation to see Zuko. He was more than willing to _beg_ for forgiveness, if only he could get a chance to explain how _sorry_ he was, how he had never meant to break his promise. If all else failed, he would even solicit Katara for help— _that_ was how little his pride mattered to him at this point.

Time stretched to a sluggish haul the longer Sokka was forced to wait, until a servant finally appeared at his door to pull him from his spiraling self-deprecation. “Your presence is requested.”

“By Zuko?” Sokka aimed to clarify, eyes wide with unabashed hope.

“No.” The servant shook her head, gesturing meekly for him to follow. “By General Iroh.”

~~

Sokka followed a familiar path to the imperial gardens, where Zuko’s uncle waited for him beneath the shade of an ancient willow. On the round table before the general sat a steaming tea set, obviously intended for sharing with his arriving guest. 

“Hi, General Iroh,” Sokka greeted with a touch of hesitancy, unsure of their purpose here. But the smile Iroh returned was welcoming and kind, his perpetual calmness putting Sokka at ease. 

“Sokka, good to see you again.”

“Good to see you too,” Sokka grinned back, before shuffling a little and frowning. “Will—uh—Zuko be coming too?”

“I’m afraid not.” Iroh closed his eyes as he brought a steaming cup to his lips. Sokka swallowed thickly, panic returning with vengeance. 

“He’s angry with me, isn’t he? Can you put in a good word for me? I didn’t mean to miss his coronation.”

“You encountered troubles at sea, I heard.”

“Yes,” Sokka lamented, “I would never miss something so important to Zuko on purpose. _Please_ , believe me. ”

“You needn’t worry, I believe you.” Iroh turned to him with a knowing smile. “Considering you are still under the impression that a coronation has taken place.”

“ _What?_ ” Sokka gawked at the old general. “It didn’t happen? Why didn’t anyone tell me this before?”

“There is wisdom in knowing how little we know,” Iroh said ambiguously, “And integrity in admitting the truth to ourselves and others.”

“Who is the Fire Lord then?” Questions continued to pile in Sokka’s mind. “Where is Zuko?”

“Why don’t you sit down?” Iroh insisted, sidestepping Sokka’s questions entirely, as he gestured to the vacant spot before him. “We can talk over some tea.”

“Of course,” Sokka said absently as the general poured him a cup, and mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

The tea was refreshing and light—grassy-sweet like the late-summer breeze that dipped beneath his collar and whispered against his skin. But Sokka couldn’t appreciate any of the subtle fragrances, his thoughts a jumbled mess from the whiplash of the sudden, unforeseen information. 

Iroh, meanwhile, showed no intention of answering any of Sokka’s previous questions, and Sokka was debating whether to repeat them when he noticed an empty birdcage hanging from a low branch behind the general. The cage was a large, ornate contraption, conspicuously placed just above Sokka’s line of vision. It appeared intended to be inquired upon, too obvious not to incite suspicion, and Sokka—exhausted from the duress he was under—asked, rather bluntly, “So...what’s with the birdcage?”

“A gift from the Earth King,” Iroh happily replied to the question, “Hand-carved from the finest mahogany. An exquisite piece of craftsmanship, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah,” Sokka agreed, “It’s beautiful.”

“Even more beautiful was the goldfinch inside,” Iroh revealed, before asking, “Have you ever encountered a goldfinch?”

Sokka shook his head. “No.”

“The goldfinch is a proud and preening thing,” the general elaborated, “Independent and distrustful of others, but they become fiercely loyal once you’ve earned their trust. Their songs are also quite lovely.”

“But where is it?” Sokka asked, frowning at the empty cage. “Did it escape?”

Iroh shook his head. “Birds are not meant to be kept in cages. I set it free, but now, I am waiting for it to return.”

“You’d have a better chance trying to catch it,” Sokka reasoned, “Maybe set a trap to lure it back.”

“You think so?” Iroh mused with an indulgent smile.

“Like you said, birds are not meant to be kept in cages. Why would the goldfinch willingly come back?”

“Freedom is of great importance to a goldfinch,” Iroh agreed as he slowly rose to his feet. “But all creatures—no matter how daring, independent, or free—are in need of companionship, kindness, and love.”

He revealed to Sokka a small tray of seeds and dried berries previously hidden beneath the fabric of his sleeves, before placing it inside the birdcage. And sure enough, a small bird returned in a flutter of golden feathers, trailed by a cheerful, whimsical tune. Sokka smiled as the bird perched inside the cage, picking at the offering. 

“Are you going to close the cage?” he asked, even though he had an idea of what the answer might be. “A cage really isn’t a cage if you leave it open. Your goldfinch could fly away again.”

“That is the risk you take with an open cage,” Iroh mused as he returned to his seat by the table. “I do not want to close the cage after my goldfinch has willingly come back. It took a lot of courage and trust, and closing the cage would send the wrong message, that love is at the expense of freedom. I will leave the cage open and the goldfinch can come and go as it pleases, but more often than not, it has chosen to stay.

“I think it’s poetic,” he then added after a short pause, as if to drive home his point, “That ribs are shaped like a birdcage.”

“And the heart is like a bird. Or at least, the person in your heart,” Sokka completed the analogy, smiling as a placating warmth settled in the hollows of his chest. “I think I know what you’re trying to tell me. But—I still have so many questions, though.”

“I can answer them.” Iroh offered, appearing satisfied with Sokka’s response, “But it might be best for you to hear from my nephew instead.”

“Where is Zuko, exactly?” Sokka asked again, only for Iroh to shrug rather noncommittally. 

“I don’t know. He left the Fire Nation a week ago, looking for you.”

~~

Sokka bolted out of the palace and into the streets of the Royal City, frustration compelling him to run even though he was unsure of where to go next. Chasing after Zuko felt like chasing shadows as the firebender eluded Sokka yet again, taunting him with his proximity yet perpetually just a breath out of reach. But Sokka also understood Zuko well enough to know that once dedicated, he rarely lost sight of his goals. If he truly wanted to find Sokka, he would have done so already, which meant he _must_ be somewhere in the capital as well—waiting for an opportune time to approach while mulling over the right words, or something _utterly ridiculous_ like that.

Sokka groaned in frustration as he skidded to a halt, wishing he had a bison-whistle for Zuko specifically, or some way he could bellow out _‘Come out already! I know you’re here!’_ into the open, public square, without being flagged down as a threat by royal guards. Sokka was seriously weighing the benefits against the risks of this option when he spotted Zuko emerging from a tea shop. He was dressed in common attire as if in disguise, glowering with his brows furrowed in thought.

“You!” Sokka cried out unceremoniously, as golden eyes snapped to his. “I finally found you, _jerkbender_. How long were you planning to avoid me?”

“I—I wasn’t avoiding you,” Zuko stammered as Sokka stomped towards him, crowding him against the tea shop window.

“Your uncle told me you left a week ago to find me.”

“I arrived at the South Pole just as you left for the Fire Nation.” Zuko’s response was defensive, even a touch petulant. “I had no choice but to come back.”

“Well, I’ve been here all day,” Sokka accused, “You could’ve come to me sooner.”

Zuko frowned, looking away. “I had a speech prepared, but I needed to rework it now that you know I’m not the Fire Lord.”

“You absolute _idiot_!” The protest sounded like a shriek, but relief had overshadowed any traces of embarrassment Sokka might have felt as he wrapped his arms around the firebender in a tight embrace. 

Zuko looked flustered when they detached, redness spreading from his face down to his collar, where Sokka’s pendant now hung, over his clothes and out in the open. The fishing line Sokka used as string had snapped—likely from the Agni Kai. The loose ends were fastened together, which Zuko must have done himself judging by how clumsy the knot was. He hadn’t allowed anyone else to fix it for him. 

Sokka pressed his thumb against the gem, feeling the jack-rabbit pace of Zuko’s heart beneath the warm surface of the stone. Sokka exhaled a small laugh, every passing second chipping away at the barrier he had fortified, in order to shield himself from the pain of Zuko’s absence. He would fix the necklace himself without using a flimsy fishing line this time. He wanted to find a thread strong enough that even lightning couldn’t destroy.

“Did you—rescind the throne?” he asked carefully, voice thick with emotion.

“No,” Zuko admitted, “I told Uncle that I wasn’t ready. I don’t think I am. I’ve been— _misguided_ —for so many years, and I’ve only just managed to find my way.”

“And not to mention you’re a fucking _teenager_ ,” Sokka snorted, teasing out a reluctant smile from the firebender.

“I am still heir to the throne,” Zuko insisted, “And I will accept the crown when I am ready. In the meantime, Uncle will have temporary leadership of the Fire Nation with help from the Order of the White Lotus. There will be no Fire Lord.”

“And you couldn’t have just—written this to me?” Sokka laughed, incredulous. “I had to sail across the ocean, get caught in a storm, and nearly _lose my mind_ thinking I had missed your coronation and you’d end up hating me because of it.”

Zuko ducked his head, appearing almost sheepish. “This had been a last minute decision, and also, something I wanted to tell you in person.”

“What we talked about last time—” Redness rose to Sokka’s face as he alluded to their previous meeting. “—Did that have anything to do with your decision?”

Zuko’s blush trounced his own. “No—Yes, I mean—delaying the coronation was on my mind since before we spoke, but you were part of my reasoning as well.”

Sokka swallowed, his chest feeling incredibly full of wild, teeming hope, even as he admitted to himself and aloud, “I still don’t know what this all means—but can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, golden eyes flickering down to his lips and then back, before repeating, a touch more breathless, “Yeah.”

Sokka leaned in, sliding his hand into the dark, loose hair behind Zuko’s left ear, as he guided their lips together. There was more fervency in this kiss compared to their first—more desperation and hunger, hope and promise. Pulling away required no less effort, however, as Sokka remembered their precise location in the midst of a public square. And no matter what silly disguise Zuko might don, some of these people were bound to realize that this was their _crown prince_ pressed against a shop window, being kissed within an inch of his life.

Sokka took a reluctant step backwards, followed by another, and tried to keep his breath even as he asked, “So, what do you want to do now?”

Whether he meant the immediate now or however long they had in the future, he wasn't sure. But the possibilities felt endless.

“I don’t know yet.” Zuko whispered through one of his barely-there kind of smiles, relieved and content. “Be with you."


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, sorry, sorry for those who got notified again. I'm still fussing over the details of this story. I added art to the last chapter (so check that out if you're interested) and decided to have the epilogue on it's own (also added a paragraph to give a more complete explanation as to what exactly Zuko is doing during this sabbatical) 
> 
> I know I gave myself room for a possible sequel, buuuut I have a Book 2 rewrite that’s been taunting me so I want to write that first. It's called [Come on, get up, let me see your bruises](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26293336/chapters/64016587) for those who are interested! <3

_Dear Uncle,_

_I am writing to you from the South Pole. The polar nights are long, but the sun rises earlier with each morning. My bending is weaker as you have predicted, but I see no use for it as the people here have treated me kindly, although their kindness is undeserved. I feel safe, and Sokka does not leave my side. You needn’t worry._

_We have been working closely with Chief Hakoda. Their tribe is only one of many in the South Pole as their people were scattered due to war. Unification is their main priority, but such tasks remain complicated after so many years of separation. Sokka is full of passion and hope for the future of his tribe. Being in his presence feels akin to having a second sun._

_He worries what will become of us when I eventually ascend the throne. I tell him when the time comes, I will fight for us, but I wonder if that will be enough._

_My banishment shaped me to who I am today, and I am stronger because of it. But I regret the years spent in relentless pursuit of the Avatar, destroying rather than learning from the cultures we came across, as you did in your travels. I would be a wiser leader if I had listened to you sooner._

_It has been difficult, but I still believe that my decision to leave the Fire Nation was the correct one. I want to retrace my steps to fully comprehend the atrocities committed by our nation, which would not be possible had I stayed sheltered within the walls of the palace. Sokka and Katara have aided my stay at the Southern Water Tribe, and I will travel with them at the end of the month to negotiate with their sister tribe in the North. I plan to journey across the Earth Kingdom next, which is much more vast, diverse, and unpredictable, but amazingly, I have found friends there as well. Lastly, I will visit each of the air temples with Aang. You might ask what I can possibly do for a people wiped out long before I was born, under my great grandfather’s reign. I do not know either, but I hope that once I reached my destination, the spirits of the past would offer some guidance._

_You have said that evil and good are always at war within me, and this conflict was my nature, my legacy. I have played my part in ending the war, but balance is far from restored. I wish to amend for our past, but I don’t understand how I can bring stability to a nation when I cannot find balance even for myself. And this is not simply because I wish to bend lightning—although my failure to do so is a rather telling sign that turmoil still resides within me. I know your answer will be as cryptic as ever, but at least the distance and a written record will allow me to think over your words in the days to come._

_I do not know how to end this letter. I haven’t written to you since I was still a prince under my mother’s care. Since then, you have not left my side except for the lowest, most regrettable points of my life. But I wish to assure you that I am content and grateful for what fate has given us, and I am hopeful for what this new era of peace will bring._

_Your devoted Nephew,_  
_Zuko_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much! Kudos/Comments are appreciated <33 Also, feel free to find me on tumblr as iiscos :)


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